Morning Heartbreak April 18, 2012
Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.trackback
I’ve been dealing with various heartbreaks lately—a little here, a little there. Maybe that’s one reason I’ve been so quiet. I don’t know what to say.
A good friend of my family died; of my parents’ close eightsome, he was the third to go. Five left. I wasn’t able to make his memorial service. That broke my heart.
It looks like Tim will no longer be going to Portland on business, which means my five-ish trips per year will be cut back drastically (and become somewhat dependent on the willingness of friends I’ve made there to shelter me for a night or two). I haven’t lost Portland, of course. But I have lost it being a regular part of my life, and it breaks my heart.
The yoga instructor I love taught her last class here last week. She is leaving to go to school—in Portland. I’ll miss her.
The general store down the street, the one destroyed a year ago by fire, the one rebuilt to foundation and frame—rumor has it that there’s been too much red tape and there’s no more money and the project has been abandoned. This really breaks my heart. I understand, but I will miss the store and, most particularly, the guys who ran it.
And this morning, when I walked out the door, I found a dead house sparrow in my driveway. He might be a fledgling who fell from the second floor of the garage, where they nest. (Is it too early for fledglings?) He has identifiable adult plumage, but his feathers seem quite fluffy. Standing next to him was a bird in mourning—father? sibling? BFF? other?—standing over the dead one, chirping. I left to do errands and go to the gym.
When I got back, two hours later, they were both still there.
I don’t know how to comfort him.
Route 153 
I’m crying about the bird. Maybe because I already knew about all of the other heart-breaks? But still…
Your post made for a very interesting therapy session today. My shrink even cried at the birds. I blubbered through most of the session like a fool. So much of one’s life is about loss: the death of friends and loved ones and those important to the people we love. I wonder if I will ever fully get used to letting go, to embracing the impermanence of it all.
That is heartbreaking. The price of love.
That is heartbreaking (all of it). The price of love.
ah, man. i am so sorry. all of these things are so sad–the general store in particular! but the bird grabs my heart.
ah, this is all so sad, especially the general store. but the bird really grabs my heart.
Google Reader hides things from me, and sometimes I know why. If I’d read this two days ago I would have been a big mess. I’m a big mess anyway but it would have been hard to read this on Wednesday. I’m sorry for these heartbreaks. I know these things too, little and big losses that add up so quickly.
Every time I go by that abandoned store, and remember all the pulling together of the community, and see how it has come, apparently, to naught, I feel so sad.
Oh, hugs to you Indigo. And to the bird in mourning.