Tears

Jan. 30th The Bahamas/Regina

Friend Panic made a re-appearance on Tuesday night, our last in the Bahamas. I went with some of B.’s family to see a film that was playing locally. Almost as soon as the lights went down I felt my throat tighten and tears spring to my eyes. I couldn’t understand it—why would thoughts of K.B. flood back into my head at this particular moment, and why would extreme anxiety be the response associated with them? The content of the movie (“Last Vegas,” of all things) did not seem to be the reason; it had barely started, anyway.

My theory is that since I had spent nearly a whole week with people whom I didn’t know well enough to talk to about losing K.B., it had been a strain to maintain of façade of normalcy around them. To be in their company and yet be able to be with my thoughts, to let the tears run down my face without having to suppress or explain them, must have been something I desperately needed.

Much as I appreciated their kindness in welcoming us into their home and providing us with an opportunity to have a vacation in the Bahamas, I was relieved to get on the plane yesterday and head back home. Here I will be surrounded by people who are grieving as well, people who hunger to talk about her and write about her, too.

I was so glad that Chris was able to have lunch with us today. I frequently had tears brimming up in my eyes, but I appreciated the opportunity to share stories of K.B. with him, whether funny or sad. He, too, is writing. It is interesting how many people who were close to her are individuals who gravitate towards the written word as a means of self-expression. Do writers naturally find one another?