Cafe Hitch-hike


And this time, I was not alone.

I was very tired from the long day, but was go glad to wind down and rested against him.

At last, I was held. I don't like being held with some people because it feels claustrophobic, but it does not with him. Something about it felt soft and warm, but strong at the same time. I felt the feeling gradually seep to the surface.

"I still feel it," I said softly and I teared. "I feel a little sad."

He held me closer and said I could let it come out. I sobbed quietly as I held myself closer against him.

"This is the first time you've done this since he died, isn't it?" he asked, and I nodded.

"We can do this for as long as you want," he replied.

The floodgates did not spring open, however. I had already been crying for days. I've felt the feelings of grief and longing, and the reminiscing of days past. I felt like I've done all I could for my uncle, and for my family. I was able to say I walked Uncle, along with my mother, to the end of his life and thereafter, and in a way where he would be pleased.

Finally, I was able to hold space and feel it all at once. It all rolled through me but I felt it gradually slow down into a stillness without me even trying. I didn't need to quickly contain it; he was willing to sit and be present through it, I could feel it. And this time, I was not alone.

downwind | upstream