Weeping

But I actually fell apart in yoga. I mean, I went to the bathroom to blow my nose and then started to weep. I don't know why it had to happen just then, and there, but I was just suddenly overwhelmed by grief, and the pain of being so far away from him, and for so long. It's always worse on this side of a visit, especially be he obviously suffers too. The whole situation is generally good for him, but there are really hard bits. It should be easier.

Anyway, beautiful Joan, who is in her early 70s, came in and hugged me. She told me that two of her sons had died, and that she understood. "You just love them so much," she said. Then she started to cry, and told me that life was hard, and that that is why she's a Buddhist, and that she was strong and so was I. So I managed to get back out on the floor and to do sun salutations, feeling comforted that she was nearby. I felt just a little bit as though Mom was there in the room, too. But when I looked around, I saw that Joan had gone, and felt awful because I thought I had spoiled her yoga practice. If I hadn't been crying in the bathroom, she wouldn't have thought about her sons, and she wouldn't have started to cry... So of course I couldn't go on with the class, either. I will write her a note.

I'm okay. Really. Just a stormy weather system today, as my favorite Buddhist teacher would say. I'll be okay. I have some errands and chores to do today. THe Jeep is leaking oil, and has to go back to the shop. I have to go get a TB test so that I can volunteer for Hospice. It's a huge pain. When I come back I hope to have the energy to paint a little. Maybe get out some of this anguish on the canvas.