There’s a lot to be said and learned and unlearned about forgiveness, how it doesn’t necessarily mean reconciliation but necessarily means some sort of recovery of equilibrium.  in oneself.  I need to learn what it means and how to do it.  I think Jesus may have some things to say about it, things to do about it.  I’m ready for it I think.  you look around and relationships are splintering beyond any control, you hear the tough fibers cracking like gunshots in the still air and watch the building you built leaning and falling into the ground with the calmness of a dream … I don’t know whether it’s as final as all that, I don’t know that what feels like a tree dying is just one larger lower branch shearing down the trunk as it goes, I don’t know that what’s diseased should be kept alive at all costs.  you feel you need to start over, sometimes, from where you are now.

Last night as Marshall, Natalie, Matt and I were leaving the Mexican restaurant in Maryville, a little white-haired old lady with white capris and a floweredy shirt was leaving and fell on her hands and knees on the grass.  She’d obviously been drinking too much and laughed it off as she kind of weaved toward the parking lot by herself, and it didn’t hit me until I noticed Matt and Natalie watching her intently that she was walking toward a van with keys in her hand … we walked out together toward her and Matt came up to her just as she was getting ready to close her car door and asked her if she was alright, if she needed someone to drive her home.  Embarrassed as hell, laughing, patting her hair,  “it’s these shoes” and “oh I’ll be fine!” as she smiled and waved, closed her door and drove away.  I have brave friends, and I hope she was alright and just embarrassed enough not to do it again,but you don’t know.  you don’t know how it ends, when someone says “no, thank you” and closes the door.  you don’t know what happens after.