Downtime

Stanley's death hurt. I've never had a friend die. And now, he is gone.

He is gone.

That's Stanley, now. Gone.

I was starting to get my head around it, when MacArthur Wright died. A friend and coworker from Tunica, MS. On Saturday, August 4th, after celebrating my son's eighth birthday, I got a call informing me that Mac had died of a heart attack earlier that evening. I'd had lunch with him two weeks earlier. Met his wife, and his youngest son. And while doing some yard work with a friend, his heart stopped pumping.

That's Mac, now. Gone, too.

And in his wake, I had to spend a couple of weeks in Tunica. Picking up the pieces of his puzzles. Everyone on eggshells. Everyone slow and quiet. I had to check his voice mails. I had to check his emails. And sometimes I'd have to call people to give them the news.

It all burned me. A dull ache behind my eyes. No energy. Too much sleep.

So, I took some downtime.

I miss you, Stanley. I miss you, Mac. But, I'm gonna get on with living.