Memorial Day Weekend

My husband and I went to the cemetery today. There were lots of people there, but they were all older people. I felt like we stuck out.... a young (in comparison) couple, going from grave to grave, hand-in-hand ...... first our baby Levi's, then my first husband's, then my dad's, then my aunt's....... We put blue hydrangeas for Levi (silk). I found myself hurrying along this time, not wanting to linger long enough for too many feelings to settle in. I was almost robotically going through the task, put flowers here-move to next one-place flowers here-move to next one.......

A Broken Shell....

I keep getting this image in my mind.......... you hear people say "I'm a shell of what I used to be." So I keep getting this bizarre image of myself. I look like a giant eggshell. Ridiculous, isn't it? A huge egg with arms and legs sticking out. (no head for some reason, I guess the egg is my head AND torso, a la humpty dumpty -- except I have no face). I'm standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes. I do not know why I picture myself doing this mundane task while I look so bizarre........ but, I digress. Someone (who?) comes up to me, barely gives me a tap on what-should-be-my-shoulder, and it makes a crack. I stand there in horror and stillness as the crack gets larger, expanding, making that awful sound as the shell is broken into a million pieces that now lay crumbled on the floor where I was standing only a moment ago. And that's all that's left, tiny pieces of shell.