I know that a lot of my emotional reaction to stimuli is rooted in a weird, partially immature part of my brain. I feel things, and they sweep over me, consuming me.
"Wind River" was a hard story about terrible things done to undeserving people, and the hardness of investigating such events. But there was a smart piece of the movie that really caught me off guard. Near the end of the film, Jeremy Renner's character visits with the father of a dead victim. The father tells Renner, "I just want to sit here, miss her for a minute." The honest grieving of that moment, that scene, the kindness of Renner's quiet visit and mourning with the grieving father made my own grief surge within my heart.
I'm grateful for this community of friends who have let me share my grief here.
Watching an episode of "Longmire" yesterday, there was music playing over the scene, where the Sheriff is dealing with the death of a friend. I recognized the tune, but not the artist. I thought it captured the tone of pensive, philosophical thinking as we move from one chapter of our life into another.
So I went and looked it up. It was Warren Zevon, and now I keep re-playing it, imagining myself singing it softly.
"You used to be the best, to make life be real to me.
And I hope that you're still out there and you're like you used to be."
It makes me long for my people, my son Maxwell, the life I remember. This week especially, I am full of gratitude for the people in my life, my family. I'm grateful I survived.
But right now, I just want to sit here and miss the ones I've lost for a minute.