More Death. Damn it.

"It's the little things that get to me," Ruth sighed as her grieving body released oh so slightly into my embrace. We don't know each other very well, but death is a commonality that connects us all. I thought Ruth should have a witness to the little things in her marriage that she misses now that Greg is gone. "Like what?" I asked. "Every morning he would greet me with, 'So nice to see you today. Would you like some tea?' and I miss having someone being so glad to see me every single day for all those years." Tears brimmed at her lower lids, but never fell. "I appreciate all the meals you all bring. I'm not usually like this, I mean, I have food in the cabinets and the freezer, but something all made up, made with love..." More tears waiting on the edge. "You're allowed to need. That's why we are in community," I assure her. This Sunday she adandones her lone spot in church and sits in Sherry and DeAnn's pew, leaning in, just ever so slightly.