It's been too much.

Well.
I've had some moments since last I posted where I thought I had something to say. But all in all, I have been much too tired and overwhelmed to even begin to open up and lay it down. I can say it all quickly now, and come back to it later. Because I need to come back, and think and process and hash it out. Out of my mouth and out of my fingers. Maybe not here? I don't know yet.

Here IT is:
I was in a big and truamatic car accident. I am hurting and slightly freaked. I am dealing with it all quite well externally, but that doesn't mean I'm not constantly thinking about, and constantly drained by it. I lived through a month where nothing else happened for me but straightening out the accident. It wasn't my fault, but I did see it coming. When I said I lived through a month where nothing else happened, I meant nothing else but my favorite grandmother dying. My favorite Mammaw. My most favorite person of all time died two days after the accident. I have been so busy straightening out the accident, that I have put my mammaw and my crushed heart at the bottom of the list. I can't go there now. It's really, really complicated. More so than you can even begin to imagine.

There are so many things that we don't know about people. People that we interact with every day; people that we call friends. For instance, a lady I work with every day decided today to speak a bit of poetry to her favorite coworker, who is leaving to become a nun in Mexico. There's one thing: I never knew this second lady was even religious, and now she is leaving to become a nun. Really intense and beautiful. Then there's this: The first lady, the one with the poem, was the most engaging orator I have ever seen or heard. She was literally the most beautiful poetry or story speaker I had EVER SEEN. She had so much emotion in her voice and in her face, and her hand and body movements were like a dance. She is from Panama, and spoke in Spanish. Most of us had no idea what she was saying, but we were all sobbing. Overcome by her hidden talent, and how much of herself she was willing to share with us. To expose. I have never seen such a heart come out of a mouth before. From this woman who is so controlled and hardly speaks of anything but practicalities. HOW CAN WE EVER KNOW HOW MUCH BEAUTY IS INSIDE? Or, sometimes, ugliness. Everyday people. With things inside that we will never know about. Hidden by the everydayness of it all. Hidden by just trying to get along with one another; just trying to relate.

And these are the complications of which I speak. To think about my dear mammaw, I have to take a long and true look at some parts of myself that are mine alone. Some things that have been tucked away and not presented to the general public in a very, very long time. Which doesn't necesssarily mean I have to go there by myself, but... I'm too numb from too much all at once to go there yet.

So. here's a framework, for me to revisit, and try to get all the ideas a little more clear in my head and heart.

But there's this: It is silly and brilliant:
An email my son spent a very long time typing out, and put A LOT of thought and heart into:

**Hi simon weller you in for som rad stuf that you going to lov becaus you might lov in the hom and som stuf lik that you and som stuf that you might lov and I might talk with you in no tim so you might want to go on a rid with me and I might lik that well I no it is that if you want**

Which is all I intended to post in the first place, before I was overcome by long explanations of a short month.