Rainy Day

The trees don't have leaves on them anymore. Their bark has been blackened by the rain and the branches reach up into the grey sky. Dark skeletons with arms lifted up. The grass at their feet is losing its green vibrancy it just had, the near winter rain and hidden sun are draining it. I can see puddles, black mirrors, on the lot beyond. I imagine they wash out the features of those who look down into them. It is perfect, for today.

Last week I was on the phone with Steve, my accountability partner and friend, when from outside the door I hear someone yelling, "Calm down, calm down." I couldn't place the voice, it was so knotted up with pain and fear, and I couldn't, from the other side of the door, imagine what had transpired. It was loud enough, Steve heard the commotion, so I told him as best as I could, that someone was trying to calm someone else down, but I didn't know why. It was a little jarring.

We wrapped up the call in just a couple minutes and I walked out the door wondering what had happened. It must have been big because Shantel and Monique were both looking at me, jaws a little slack and eye revealing just how stunned they were. I asked what had happened, what was the yelling about. It was Barb, my boss, they tell me. It was her brother, on the phone, she had been trying to calm down, her Dad had just died.

The brother or the father, I'm not sure which, had just had surgery and the other was there to help them out. They were together in Lansing. Both, outside of this surgery, had been healthy. The morning of this call, the brother had gotten up and could not wake his father, his surviving parent and in a fit, in a broken state, called Barb. She wouldn't let anyone drive her and she left immediately. She needed to be with her family.

On this cold rainy day, right now, in Fenton the funeral service has begun. I could have gone, but I ... I couldn't. I don't want to see my boss that way, in grieving, and I don't think she wants to be seen that way. I never have the right things to say and I feel so awkward. Even considering it, I feel like my washed out reflection, a shadow of who I should be. I'm propped up only on excuses.

I watch the rain and pray for the family.