Dinner and a Song

I had dinner with Song, at my house. I made quinoa pie, and Christmas cookies. We opened a bottle of Grapeful Red. She told me where she's at...

She's been pretty depressed...and she has good reason. Dead husband, no insurance money, lack of security. She lost, or forfeited, her vocation. But, she's not defeated. The thing I like about Song, well one of the things, is that she will ask for help. She's been feeling badly. She went to the doctor and got a prescription for, not an antidepressant, but anti-anxiety, the new emotional challenge. But, she's doing everything she can for herself. I love that. She has every reason to give up and give in. But she won't.

She's going to contact the local rescue mission, to see if they need help on Christmas day. She thinks that'll be good for her. I do too.

I have to send her an email. She was supposed to go, with her sister and brother-in-law, to the place where she and her deceased husband spent their first date. I hope she had a lovely time. She deserves to have a lovely time.

She's made reservations at her husband's favorite natural resource. That's where she and her family will scatter his ashes. She has the most practical, thought-out plan you can surmise. She has put effort into her life.

She's cutting back her work hours. She needs time. She should have time. Isn't that a truly remarkable revelation? I hope we get to take walks together. I need her perspective.

Survive the holidays, Song, you should be able to breathe a little real, real soon.