Long Day

"In the end there is one dance you'll do alone"
"For a Dancer" Jackson Browne

Today was the memorial service for my wife's oldest sister. She died suddenly two weeks ago. A difficult and draining day for her family.

This artistic and talented woman recognized in me a frustrated musician, and bought me a nice acoustic guitar about ten years ago. She was right. I taught myself to play, and that expressive outlet gave me an island during some very stormy years of marriage. She also awoke an interest in nature photography by encouraging my participation in photo contests. She enriched my life, gave it more depth thru the arts.

One of the other sisters had a lot of trouble holding it together, breaking down four or five times. As a guy, I have never been a touchy-feely sort. In fact, in 25 years, I can't remember embracing either of my wife's two remaining sisters. But I found myself wanting to hold this woman and comfort her. I felt terrible for her, because I have had days like this myself in recent months. I wanted to share my story and my pain, commiserate with her.

Alas, I could not step out of my long-time role to do this. I have a part to play, and I'll have to stay in character till I'm ready to come out. I have to fight the urge to divulge, and the urge is strong. I offered some sincere verbal support, but it felt half-assed. I really felt a need to nurture, and not following through on it was saddening, as I think it would have helped both of us on some level.