The bad news is that I got a call last Friday early morning from a family friend who had received an email from my mother. A suicide email. WHO THE HELL SENDS A SUICIDE EMAIL? But she had written that there was no God and no hope and she wrote "thank you" and she wrote "I'm sorry" and she wrote "Good bye." I hung up the phone and drove straight out to the jenny farm; I was terrified that when I got there I would find her dead, but she wasn't, she was sitting on the couch staring into space, and when she saw me walk in she begged me to leave and hung her head and sobbed exactly like a little girl, big shoulder-heaving sobs of inarticulate sorrow. She talked to me. We'll get there. Jesus fuck I'm crying so hard I can't see the keyboard, and I have to go to work. I'M GONNA LOOK LIKE ASS! Poor sweet mom. I want you to enjoy your life. You waited so long for your place in the country with your gentle donkeys and your zinnias.
This in addition to D.'s decline into suicidal thoughts has my heart absolutely fucking breaking for the suffering. I see this sorrow sinking into me and I see it affecting others through me, and I have to avoid that. It'll be ok, though. Jeff has been phenomenal. I love him with all my heart. He lost his mother less than a year ago, and I know he has his own grief, but he listens and he helps in countless ways.
Don't feel you have to comment on this. I know y'all are sending me good (har, I typed "goof") thoughts, and I appreciate it.