My co-worker buried his 21 year-old son today while I drove to Lowe's for foam sealant to deter the mice that have been invading our home. Lowe's was on my "to do" list following the overflowing, black-clad gathering that witnessed a mother saying goodbye to her only son and tearful eulogies that inspired each of us to be a "true friend." On the meandering country roads, my thoughts fixated on how nothing would ever be the same for this family whose world was decimated in an instant. A Sunday errand. A song. A haircut. A meal. A smell. A breeze. A drive. A breath. A smile.
My fleeting, flitting nuisances juxtaposed a family's worst nightmare that trampled on their lives and left a gaping hole that no foam can repair. I searched for sealant amidst others eager to patch, paint, hang or scrub to remedy or remodel where life goes on for them. Clothed in funeral attire with a can of foam spray, I was humbled by the meagerness of my circumstances and filled with perspective and compassion that will live with me long beyond the mice.
Dedicated to Tracy Jr., a true friend to all.
