The art of healing.

What do you say to someone who won't talk to you.
Maybe it's better to say that they just can't get the words out.
I came home, not to spend the holiday's at home decorating the Christmas tree, um Chanukah bush, but rather to help a friend.
I have read more than once about the call that comes in the middle of the night. The one where the phone sounds just a little odd probably because the air surrounding it has changed. That might sound odd, but I believe that the things we use to interact electronically also lets us connect physically. Last week was the second time I got the call.
Now I'm back in town and I don't know how it's going to turn out.
I have been trying to help my best friend get back to the balance we usually have when sharing time together.

I am writing around the bush.
There is no getting things back to the way they used to be. Life goes on for some and for others there is a very different road to travel. It's more than difficult to wear one face on the outside and see another one in your reflection in the store windows as you walk down the street.
It has taken me a couple of days to get through the writing of this; even as the thoughts roll around in my head, the situation changed.

Eventually I will be able to get things straight in my head and do a proper job of story telling. Something to give honest tribute to the most pure and unselfish person I have ever known. Now is not the time though. Now is the time for silence and recollection.