Update Update - I Cry
I think i am almost ready to restart my life. But not today. I am about half dressed, i am eating, i am resting, i am picking up a bit of the clutter, i am crying, and i am reading. I haven't read much in the last sixteen years, and very little fiction --maybe about three novels every two years. The last one was 5 months ago, the one before that nearly two years ago. I don't know why i don't read more. I used to enjoy reading. My vision is getting bad for one thing.
The book i am reading now was selected from a half-hour's search of a thrift store. It is my favorite "genre:" Murder (usually) mysteries are solved by Native American detectives on or near Indian reservations. Just like most men read Playboy for the articles, i read these mostly for the ethnic cultural information i pick up.
I am reading Grandmother Spider, by James D. Doss. His novels are set on or near the Southern Ute Reservation. One minute i am reading second rate fiction with corny dialogue, the next i am in Southwestern Colorado following suspicious or frightened or inquisitive people around. He beautifully evokes the geography and lanscape in what seems to be a very accurate depiction
This morning i found myself sobbing, no tears, but the first real signs of what i would call grief. The sobbing noises seemed to come from my gut and they were involuntary, I suppose they lasted about three minutes.
I felt loss, i felt pain, i felt the pain of loss. I felt really good to feel those things.
Afterwards i apologized. Dianne did not cry and did not like when i cried. I didn't blame her. My very rare crying fits (maybe four in 55 years) were usually signs of a weakness that frightened her, She needed a strong man, one who could stand by a strong, stubborn and courageous woman, But i did not feel weak today, i felt that the sobbing was appropriate and i almost wish there had been tears.