60 Hours

Why do I try to write anything when it's late. My mind and body are t-i-r-e-d. For the past 60 hours I have been back to my home in Nashville and Mt. Juliet, TN walking my own personal "trail of tears"--reliving the minutes, hours, days, routes, and people I encountered during those days before Thanksgiving in November 2008 when my mother was slipping away towards God in eternity. This November 24 will be the second anniversary of my mother's death--a sudden death due to an ascending aortic aneurysm. I can hardly spell that, much less wrap my mind around it or around her absence. I loved my mom with all my heart and then some. I'm too weary to talk much about it all right now. Instead I'm going to go to sleep, just like Zach has done, curled up on the guest bed behind me as I type. He's right--it's definitely time to call it a night, call it a weekend, and call it a season tired from grief.