The rain on my car is a baptism.
-- From that one movie. You know the one.
These past few days have had a calm within me. Externally, there have been storms for some around me. Asks for emergency Zoom calls; texts for last minute tarot reads. This kind of thing doesn't happen often but, when it does, it just feels good to be able to have and offer the capacity to hold and take on some of the weight of it. The timing feels serendipitous and for that, I am grateful. It has been sunny for several days now, but it has been raining hard in other realms.
This weekend will be a housewarming party: The house filled with family and love and laughter- with or without a functioning barbecue.
*
Lastly, because I don't know the order in which to put it, I learned earlier this week that a loved one's sibling died by suicide.
[This loved one is of so many years. Years of letter-writing, romance, friendship, clues. The first blueprint of something true. Their father helped me figure out how to buy my first new-for-me vehicle. Their sister the first child aside from my niece I had bought a present for back then.]
So I am here: Showered and quiet, contemplating the complexity of these kinds of deaths. They churn the stomach, the mind and the heart in a way that is distinct from other kinds of deaths. In their immediate shadow, there are never exact words to say and, perhaps, it is better that way.
Memorial Day, indeed.
be well; be loved,
k.
[image: Jing Wen for Vogue UK, March 2018 Mert & Marcus]
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