I believe I left off writing our journey when we were on the cusp of Scotland.
I haven't been able to pick up the thread,
because I'm wobbly.
Once, many years ago when my grandpa died I said something like this,
"Grandparents are like chair legs, you don't even think about them being there until one of them is gone and all of a sudden you're off balance." Wobbly.
Apparently friends are comparable to chair legs as well.
Rowan has been complaining of a toothache for several weeks. I've been my usual compassionate self and have said beautiful things that he'll always remember like, "Well yeah Rowan, if you don't brush your teeth for two minutes like I tell you to you're going to get cavities and the dentist is going to stick a big needle in your mouth. And I'm taking it out of your savings account, say good-bye to the dreams of Lone Ranger Legos..."
Anyway my mom finally took him and it turned out to look like an abscess. They tried to fill it for now and he came home with a huge lip and plenty of drool. My mom said the dentist asked if he had been hit in the face recently. Hmmm, does the wheel barrow full of rocks falling across his cheek at the cottage count?
Later in the day he did math and I noticed him just kinda staring into space. I went over and asked, "Rowan, are you alright?" (Insert British Accent)
He looked up, swollen and startled, and said, "I think I'm just in shock."
And I had to turn away.
Because I completely understood.
Shocked, wobbly, just kinda looking around but not really seeing anything. That's me right now.
I lost a friend, she moved away, and it's not the end of the world, and yet it is. It's the end of the world as I knew it with a loving personality at my side, who delighted in the days with me. I didn't realize that she was a chair leg when she was here. I didn't realize I depended upon her for stability. But I did.
Extractions are shocking.