I've lost my "voice" this time around. You know me. I pull together thoughts and words and blog about it. This time, I feel like anything I say is inadequate. I've always wanted to live my life true to my belief that our world can change. It can be better.
Right now, I feel grief. This new wave of racism, so obviously condoned by too many people, killed something within me.
Then the other day, I learned of the suicide of a friend bound with me through Huntington's disease. The all-sacrificing role of a caregiver can pull you into dark places as you helplessly watch someone you love battle and lose to a terminal illness. You get thrown back into living only because of her death. Some caregivers dive into advocacy. I work, partly to fill the hours of the days left open after my mother died. My friend, who spent years in caring for his beloved wife, withdrew into his grief until . . .
And so, this week sucks.
Copyright 2017 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
