Thursday, March 22, 2007

No way to cushion the blow

I saw the train coming right at her. Not a real train, but the figurative kind...the horrible, terrible, emotional, grief train. I prayed that it would get turned down another line by a last minute switch on the track. And I told her I wished for the best...but I also warned her that if it hit her it would hurt like hell. She stopped talking to me.

Now I am waiting for confirmation that the train did strike her (and her sweet baby girl).

And I feel as though I am going to vomit.

You can't cushion the blow. For anyone. No matter how much you want to...no matter how much you try. Some nameless/faceless conductor makes the decision whether to miss you or run you over. You can scream into the roar as it comes barrelling down the track, but it does no good.

The best you can hope is that it doesn't kill you.

9 comments:

Aurelia said...

I agree, perfectly said. I hope your friend is okay. And I hope you are too.

DD said...

It's hard to have a knowledge that no one wants you to even hint about. And it's a horrible nightmare when they realize it, too, can happen to them.

I'm so sorry to hear about your friend. I hope she knows that you are there for here, no matter what.

Sarah said...

The waiting is horrible. I hope there is news soon.

Bon said...

your post gave me chills. i hate the knowing, wondering if what you see coming is just your own projection, and knowing that no one else wants to know. bizarrely, knowing doesn't make it any easier to watch someone else get hit, either.

i am sorry, Catherine. for you, and your friend.

Julie said...

Thinking of you and your friend.

Heather said...

I feel it too. Like I have been holding my breath for two days.

msfitzita said...

Oh God...not again.

I'm so sorry - for your friend and for you.

(((((HUGS)))))

Stephanie said...

The waiting is horrible...I suspect the living it is infinitely worse. I haven't heard anything either but am hoping for a change in the track's direction.

M said...

I feel as though I'm holding my breath for someone I don't know - how awful x

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My mom insisted on living independently. She wanted to live in the two-story house she and my dad built in the 70s, despite the fact that da...