I have started to write many posts this week.
The first one was about the great weekend I had, just Martha and me, alone for the whole weekend. It was going to be a love story about transitions and cleaning out the garage.
Then there was the one about some medical decisions I have to make and how difficult it can be when the decisions affect others in your life.
That got sidetracked when therapy hit a raw nerve and I started to write a rant on how much therapy hurts.
But they all became meaningless when I got a call Monday night telling me that a close friend had died in a car accident. Although it wasn’t an accident. She was killed by a drunk driver. And I wanted to write an angry post about the impact of DWI and how many families I know that have been torn apart by this senseless, selfish act.
But I have just returned from a funeral and sitting Shiva for a friend. A single mom with two beautiful daughters. And I am having trouble finding any words for anything.