i still cry.  nightly.  not as hard.  not as long.  but something always seems to set me off…tonight it was the missing nightstand.  he had asked if he could take it, and i said yes.  he came over while i was at work. and now just dust bunnies and some books are left piled up where it stood by his side of the bed.  a bed i had left a few years before.  that fact doesn't escape me.  be careful what you wish for.  had i known that this emotional upheaval was part of the bargain, i would have wished differently.  but, it's done.  at least the part that has paragraphs and wherefores and parties of the first part.  the rest, the matter of retraining my heart, well i suspect will take some time.  last year at this time, i was planning a garden and a trip to Texas and beekeeping and vigorous walks.  a year later, i am taking things much slower and gentler and quieter.  trying to grab a ray of laughter with both hands and squeeze it through the crack in the cave wall to scatter the darkness.  it's not all tears though.  not like a few months ago when the thought of lifting my head from the pillow was unthinkable…when i felt i was being assaulted by the very breath that came into my lungs…and through all this dis-ease, i felt 100% certainty that it was necessary for some cosmic reason yet to appear…that i am now to hold the hand of the one behind me…to lift the next in line, just as the ones before me held me and absolutely and fiercely refused to let me stumble or fail.  and i will do the same. for you.  for anyone sent to my path.  even as i am just learning to walk again, i will spend time on my knees with you, crawling with you, until you can stand again…and reach behind you for the next one in line.  sent to your path.