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Seven-year anguish

you were my glue
   now you are my sorrow
and i am falling apart

—Erin L. Shafkind (caption to her photograph "Snow Wedding")

Spent an hour or so this morning catching up with my best friend Christopher. Again he wrestles with deep dissatisfaction in his marriage, planning to talk with his wife Sara more about it this weekend. Their lives pull in different directions, and he knows that admitting his own unhappiness is the only way they can have hope of healing. They must try, keep trying, start trying to walk together. I was the best man in their wedding, a December day seven years past. I'm praying for them.

Bringing him up to speed on the last month of my life affirmed my amazement in all that has happened. At times it's been more like a novel, movie, or comic book than a real life, yet I'm still living it. And I am living it.

Will I go to the office today? Feeling great freedom to answer that question however I choose. Perhaps I will give some attention to my home. It's been a long time.

Picked up a corned beef bagel sandwich from the Bagel Deli on the way home. My to-go order somehow ended up on a paper plate (thankfully, still quite portable)— I think they miss taci.