Minutes to Memories

It’s after midnight. I’m doing poorly in the sleep department, but our conversations the past two nights with Laura and Heath have been wonderful. I’m really hoping it works out for them to be down here on a regular basis someday. We took them out to dinner at Café New Orleans tonight (the Cajun Sampler for me), only to come home to talk for hours afterwards. It has been great having them here. It feels as if Laura is an old friend, and it took Heath about two seconds to be part of the family, too. He has impressed me a lot in the short time I’ve known him. (Hillary took my picture with Laura today.)

But Karen died. And this automatically qualifies today as a bad day.

I hate death. I hate leaving a hospital and watching folks on their merry way when death is in the air close by. The world seems so unaware, like it doesn’t care. It doesn’t seem to miss a beat. I hate noticing that I myself am soon on my merry way, too. But the world around me has missed a significant beat. I can’t help but notice today.

This morning I prepared my class for Sunday on suffering. Like the world needs a class on it. There seems plenty to go around with or without a class.

And I didn’t go jogging tonight, breaking my three-day consecutive string. I hope I won’t fall off the wagon completely, but tonight there seemed to be more important things. Like people. Those nearby. And those now gone.

I’ve got to get some sleep.