9437209559,9853309559.
>📱 Whatsapp's <
🌅 India Rising
My fingers are wet sand as I type. They are heavy like God is saying, “Shh…Don’t write about this. Don’t make this into something yet. Wait.”
I have known too many people who have taken their lives, yet here we are again.
I already know what tomorrow will feel like. I've been here before. My body has mapped the temperatures of grief. I must get through today. Tomorrow, my fingers will lift easier, but my limbs will chill. They will become freckled in goosebumps like I was standing in the warm sun and a cold front appeared.
Does cold appear? Is that the right word? Do you have to be able to see something for it to appear?
Today, typing is harrowing. My phalanges are weighted and rigid. They are mimicking death. “Stop being dramatic,” I tell them. I can’t blame them. My fingers are grieving because writing is how I mourn. They mirror rigormortus. “That’s an awful word to use,” I scold my brain. “Don’t be morbid.”
Tomorrow, my friend will have been dead for three days. How is that possible?
It is not, but it is.
Woman in the skies. Girl in the water, the impending cold spell sings her song like sirens beneath the lake’s surface, stealing another soul. Me, with wax in my ears, bearing witness again but not hearing their call.
I met Ainsley and her son, Michael, at the beach. A mom with white hair. A grandmother? An older parent, my club. White hair, tan, strong taut frame, an outdoors woman. My tribe.
She was giddy with second chances.
“Never thought I’d be here,” she told me, her bright white smile flashing. “Thought this part of life had passed me by.” But then came love, then came marriage, and then came the baby in the baby carriage.
“Life is long,” I told her. I was wrong. I’m not saying that anymore. I used to love saying those words because it made me feel optimistic. Life is long. There was still time for everything. That’s not true. Too many sirens singing.
She brought us on her boat, her love, her first husband. She was one of those women who didn’t bother with stop.
JaiHind.. 🇮🇳 JaiBharat..
Comments