We talk almost every morning but this morning something is different — her pain is deeper. The silence in her house so profound all I hear are her birds in their cage.
“Help” she says. “This is too hard for me and I’m not doing well.”
Usually we lighten it. Commiserate on a common thing or two. Laugh a little.
Today she needs more.
“Say something” she begs.
“I don’t know what to say” I say in a way I hope doesn’t leave her hanging there alone but in the way that goes to the place of pain that has no mortal words.
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