I'm not sure there was ever time to draw a map of how to be the one left behind when someone dies, whether by their own hand or by God's. I'm not sure I ever wanted to be the flag bearer for a group of people who exist without their consent, and I don't think I want any microscopes or infamy for just putting words down the same way I put one foot in front of the other, the way I can only take one measured breath at a time, the way I put the posts up and take the judgement and mostly otherwise just keep to myself. I'm not your poster child, your how-to/DIY, your widow hack, your curiosity so please don't tell me I am because I don't want to know and I don't want anyone to ever think there's a right way or a wrong way to do anything. Whatever way you live your life is your way and it doesn't matter what anyone else does, says, or thinks, okay?
Okay.
I saw Caleb today and he left me an envelope for tonight. The pain in my head is finally receding like the high tide and I stopped sneaking bourbon in between Advils when Lochlan caught me. He took the envelope and burned it and then he didn't say a word, heading off with Ruth for their day together to celebrate Father's Day. Henry and Caleb started so much earlier, because they are early people and Ruth and Loch are late people now.
Kind of funny how that works.
I may go down to the boathouse just to say hello. It's been a while. Ben said I can have six minutes. I can't thaw him out at all.
