And despite the sunshine outside, today feels like a day without any.
So yesterday I was at my friend’s house, waiting to see if she would wake up.
She never did.
I talked to her for a while and her breathing changed and quickened as I told her about my day and a dream I had about us, and how I would be back again tomorrow or the next day. I think that she could hear me.
I know that people’s subconscious is fully alert while under anesthesia, and at this point the brain tumor inside her is probably a bit like that.
After a while, I kissed her cheek and then went and sat in the family room down the hall. I noticed and began thumbing through a book on Iceland that I imagine was given to her – or at least intended for her – a couple days ago on Christmas. There’s a whole complex and rather tragic story around Iceland (and she is the reason I went there myself in August 2008), but it doesn’t seem appropriate to go into that here.
At any rate, the only thing I really wanted to post was this passage that I found in that book. It was mostly a coffee table book of gorgeous photos of flowing lava or glaciers or vast expanses, but was littered with a small quote every dozen or so pages.
This particular one hit me hard. It strikes me as powerful and painful and uplifting and emotional and beautiful and impossibly sad all at the same time, which I guess is pretty much exactly how I would summarize the last three months:
I am the abyss
That protects the precious pearls
You dreamt of having.