Welp, so far, this has been a weepy week for me.

A few days ago while driving, I saw an elderly man standing along side the road with a small cardboard sign that simply read "hungry".

Luckily, I had some food in the car, so I swerved through traffic and offered it to him.
He was grateful for the offering and commenced eating.

Naturally, I was upset to see this poor, homeless man with his tired little bundle by his weathered shoes, and knowing that he is just one of an ever increasing population.

So there he stood along side of that busy highway in the dead of winter, struggling to maintain a measure of self-dignity as he humbly held his little sign asking for something as basic as food.

I'm getting upset just thinking about this.

I watched from a distance as one expensive car after another just zipped right past him with bearly a glance.

I broke down in tears in my warm car, as I drove to my warm home, where I would later have a warm meal.

Okay, this incident does merit tears.

Then yesterday, I started weeping again for no apparent reason.
One of those "out of the blue" moments I guess.

And of course, there was that earlier episode I've already posted (the event that triggered memories centered around rejection).

I've been plagued by anxiety and melancholia of late.
And mental acuity?! Ha!! Done gone flat it has.

Then I got to thinking ( or something like it ) that perhaps my mind is being sneaky and is quietly working on last year's events behind my back.

Perhaps traumatic memories act like a magnet for other emotional stuff left over in the ole attic.
Hmmmm....


Well, today I was discussing poetry with my H and he asked me if I'd written any lately.
I said, "No, not really".....
"well maybe one".

He expressed interest, so I decided to read to him, "Time of Echoes".

I can't give you a lovely, romantic picture of what ensued, because, well....
I lost it. Yep, tears, wobbley chin, pathetic air sucking - the whole silly package.

My H remarked "Well, I guess you are feeling a little ultra-sensitive today".

Ahhh - yeh. That'd be about right.

I eventually managed to stagger across the finish line with four flats and my hood flapping against the windshield.

Even still, he commented on how much he liked it, even though he didn't fully understand it.

I have to say that he was being 'KIND' here.

I mean, have you ever heard someone trying to speak while being strangled?
Picture Minnie Mouse trying to be serious while reciting my poem in some smokey coffee house. Weird, huh.

I simply said, "'Time of Echoes' is about memories".

He looked at the floor and mumbled "Oh".

Not sure whether he 'got' it or not, but I'm glad that I had the opportunity to share another little piece of me - with him.

Jeannine