Outside Inside at the End

I am feeling somewhat sentimental today. Actually. It began very late yesterday afternoon. And this is not surprising because I am somewhat prone to sentimentality. Perhaps this is why the capturing of images appeals to me so greatly. One moment. One small tiny moment. Frozen. So I am feeling sentimental. And nostalgic. And I can't really talk about it. Confidentiality. You know. That thing. Which normally isn't a problem. I have enough to talk about. But this time it is.

What I can say is that I was on the telephone with a client's family member. Her other line rang. I am holding. And when she returns she is crying. And I know. His time in this life has ended. I am the first person she is speaking with after the news. And it is awkward. And beautiful at the same time. Her tears. Connecting us in a strange and unusual way. And I will not soon forget.

And my first inclination was to tell what I could of this story to my friend. The one who requires that I speak softly. Whisper. His hearing sensitive. Like an animal in the wild. But he wasn't available. Dialed. Twice. No message. What could I say. Sigh. So I opened a beer and sat down and thought about nothing in particular. I gave myself mental space. Tried to perform a few mundane tasks. Find a moment where I could be completely present. Only semi successful.

I am not afraid of death. And I am not particularly saddened by death. And perhaps this makes me an unusual person. I have seen the worst of death. The absolute you can't even imagine it could be that bad worst. And I have seen the best of death. Yes. The best. Several experiences throughout my life have given me a strange glimpse into death as beautiful process. Beautiful.

Last night I sat. With myself. I sat for a moment and realized I couldn't sit. As of late I have noticed. A need to chew. Swallow. Digest. Process. Before anything can be said. And this is new. And I am learning to negotiate with myself.

But I couldn't do it. Not last night. So instead of doing this. I called my very wise friend. And found myself distracted. Very Wise didn't know the situation. I didn't tell him. But I wonder if he perhaps felt my distraction. Although I am most certain he is used to this as it is part of my nature. Still. This was different. And I could not be completely present in our conversation. And this is not the case. Not with him. Not anymore.

We spoke of many things before his one-of-many-late-night-working-for-the-man-extravaganzas was due to begin. And I found myself spitting out random bits of information truncated. Finally a Hallelujah like exclamation when the words he had been seeking washed over wire.

I was vague. And didn't know. Much like I am vague now. Only this time I am aware of every vague syllable. And it is only because I am stumbling through things right here. Right now. With you.

And I realize that this moment that I shared with this womyn. Almost a stranger. Was one of the most intimate moments two people care share. Beginnings and endings. Dramatic. Black. White. And the gray tends to fall away. Slipping past the seemingly important but not important enough to remember. And perhaps this struck me because I have been thinking about intimacy a great deal as of late. And what this means. And my relationship with intimacy as an entity.

And sometimes I wonder if the universe is trying to tell me something.

Indeed.