Late post

The brightness setting on my iphone is turned to minimum, and this moment I'm lying in bed--tired but clean after a night's work and a hot shower--next to a sleeping Jen. It's late on a Sunday night/Monday morning; we've been home from the hospital two full days.

Life around us clatters along, sometimes collapsing right in our view. From where we are it appears amusing, breathtaking, wretched, heartbreaking--mostly heartbreaking. Regardless, we can't seem to allow it in, fully.

Jen's survival--though no longer in immediate jeapordy--is still all that matters. We haven't found a way to evolve, and, I think, neither of us feels it would be right to, yet.

But, the fact is that when the outside does take it's chance to flow on in, it's--as I've said all along--the most healing thing there is. Every time I witness that occurrence, and I see her become engaged with someone or something, I'm reminded of everything that I love about Jen Zarnoch. Then, I know again that it's all going to be ok.