breakdown

Your father's dying, your cat's dying, your girlfirend's gone . . . your pets' heads are falling off . . .

elizabeth

Elizabeth Clarke called this morning.  You go over to her house and you both break down and hug each other and cry for what seems like hours, but it's really fifteen exhausting minutes.

"it's a long hard crawl"

mom is stricken, it is her state:
there will be no healing.
she has no "detachment" 
(are you kidding?)
no release
no resignation yet
no-thing but worry as dad dies

you have to be there with her

feel that with her

you have no idea

what it's like

that time of life

nesta's old:
sleep!
shrinking
mangled larynx
grouchy meow
a rear-legged stutterstep here or there
saying no to the heat
fur graying around his eyes, whiskers and nose; mouth and chin
you can't feel his pain