Balancing the Scales

I woke up this morning to a friend's FB post around impermanence. Her entire website has been lost. It just disappeared. She misses her daughter. They live on different continents during Corona time. It feels strangely resonant with yesterday's writing, and even last year's writing when I was ghosted by Google. 

Erasure. Separation. Isolation. All of it takes us back to grief. When grief is up, it will not let us go.  

A good friend and I have been trying to get together safely the last month. We began this endeavor when it looked like things with the virus were easing. Our plan - to meet at a place between where we both live and to have a long and leisurely lunch outside on the deck of a restaurant that overlooks the Susquehanna River. We've been meeting there for years and have never had a problem. We usually eat outside there anyway, just because it is beautiful. This, actually, might even feel somewhat normal.

Except for the storms. Every date we've set has been beset with storms. Like this morning. I received a text from her at 7:32 today -

It's raining here, can we check in before driving? The weather may not be conducive to sitting outside during lunch -

I replied -

Sure.

And sent a screen shot of the weather with a comment.

Yeesh. The weather. Woke up to thunder here.

At about 9:15 another message -

I'm thinking it's a wash today. Can you chat, just to have a little time?

That's the loss, isn't it? The time. The presence. The chance to let down and talk. And a glimpse of normalcy. We haven't seen each other since this all began, and I think it might have been longer even than that. I think this issue with blocks to meeting may have been going on for quite awhile, or in the fall we may have been able to meet one time after a previous long stint of scheduling blocks and snow events. 

The previous long stretch of time with blocks to meeting did not bother me so much. Back then, it never occurred to me that there might be a day when meeting might be impossible or improbable. Seeing a friend is something I've always taken for granted.

And even though I am moving down the spiral exploring grief this morning, my surface response to these things is not to worry about it. To set another date and to do something surprising with this unexpected time that has opened up. 

There's a balance that's important to find these days. It's a new balance. A re-calibration. A reset. We are learning to walk on new and shifting ground.

Days of Accidental Beauty: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that invites discovery.