i am... (the prelude, April 26, 2009)

sitting in a panera
and i can't stop
not howling or sobbing, mind you
just a flood of tears --
not one can change a thing
yet, the shipwreck of it, well, it's why i'm noting

i have lost a father to a slow drawn out dance w cancer
lost my mother suddenly...
in the midst of a long estrangement
slammed into a "well, now... gone"
that even with the gulf between us, i sat at dear friend's birthday, KNOWING
but this
this is different

it is zelda
the sweetest, most pointed, spot on, here you go soul in the world
defines love and innocence and bite me
and she can't even tell me how to make it better
she just smiles as much as she can, wags her tale
devours boiled chicken and limp carrots cooked in broth
baked sweet potatoes
rice cakes
the stuff she wants, the stuff she can keep down
and once the UTI is resolved, we'll have a better sense
maybe it's months, maybe a year
but still --
it is the poodle. the girl dog spaniel. the prada of dada. the one who HAS kenny chesney's number and thinks alex bevan is the sweetest thing who ever lived
she KNOWS things, and she knows me...
and there's no one she'd rather curl up with and tell her secrets to
about chasing bunnies and roast munk supreme and the chanel collar that's too black

and so
how does one do this?
do it and not subject their four-pawed guardian angel to the part where you cry
because as the woman at the hospital said to me when i was crying at my dad's bed
"he don't need THIS. he got enough to deal with... don't you be bringing that drama and those tears in here. you be light and happy and give him joy in his struggle..."
and that lady was right
esp now
except for the part where i can't stop crying...