The walking wounded is a term I would use to describe myself at this time. It seems like I should have a huge hole where my heart use to be. My brokenness is so devastatingly complete. It seems like I cry when I wake up and cry when I go to bed. Friends I have known my whole life turn when they see me. Ones I have shared bread with...

There is something about sorrow that makes us want to run. To flee before the sorrow touches us. Maybe they don't know what to say, it doesn't matter. I understand. But it still hurts.

I saw a man yesterday when I went out to eat with Mom and Dad (i did not want to go, Mom begged me too.)

I had a bad day that started with a dream about John the night before, and I was just broke up about it. But I went out to eat with them.

The man was sitting alone. His hair was messed up and he did not look the cleanest. He sat in a contraption that he could roll himself around in,because he weighed about 500 pounds.

My heart broke for him. I felt anger rise up in me as people walked past him and cast disgusted looks his way. I just wanted to shout at them, " Do you know his story?"

We were seated several booths away from him but I could see him clearly from where I sat. There was a rambunctious table next to him and when they would laugh at each other's jokes, a huge smile would cross his face.

I thought I was alone until I saw that man. He was truly alone and I felt it.

He sat and read the paper while he ate, occasionally smiling to himself at other people's conversations.

It was his birthday. And several waitresses that he knew came over and sang happy birthday to him.

I had a lump in my throat that wouldn't go down. It was this man's birthday and he was completely alone. I felt this overwhelming sadness for him.

On the way out I stopped and introduced myself and wished him a happy birthday. I talked to him a few minutes and he was just so grateful. He told me his family was all dead. He was the last one. But he was a Christan and looked forward to being with his family in Heaven.

Sometimes in our brokenness it helps to reach out to someone else in their brokenness.

~Nita~

Song, The Blower's Daughter
by Damien Rice
1st video, 1st song

This song is so hauntingly beautiful...It reminds me of John.
My hair use to be that long and John loved it. I may grow it again..