Thursday, December 2, 2010


I ran into a former teaching colleague at Target tonight.  I hadn't seen her in several years. She's in her 30s, I suppose, and expecting identical twin boys any second.

I was hoping to escape before she asked about my family, but no such luck.

Imagine explaining, in the middle of a Christmas-decorated Target, to a mother of twin boys just about to make their appearance, that one of your own twin boys died of suicide at the age of 24.

I suppose it's progress that my concern was entirely for her and her well-being when she goes home to her new husband tonight with this story.

I had just picked up some new outdoor lights, in which I have completely lost interest.

Such a hard season.


  1. Even when you can call it progress, it's still awful. So sorry, all the way around.

  2. {{{{{Robin}}}}}}
    I'm not usually one who thinks that people come into our lives at certain times for a reason but this encounter tonight just feels to me as if there was a "reason" for her to have been at Target at the same time you were.

  3. I think this would be a hard one, no matter what the season. God bless you, and her.

  4. wish I could have seen you at that Target, Robin. sigh.