Sanctuary

Most of the time I do not feel any emotions about what has happened. I work in my show. I feel grateful. I read my Jane Austen book. But today it just hit me again as it does sometimes. And I am brought low. I miss my daughter. I miss my other daughter. Too much.
I am in northern Canada wondering what my life will be when I get home in the winter.
It is the feeling that took me into that church in Eugene, Oregon.
Lighting candles.
And the church ladies seeing my face and asking if I wanted to speak with the priest.
I was so amazed.
Yes. I wanted to speak with the priest.
And she sat with me in a pew and we just talked.
She spoke of her teacher in Divinity school who had lost his severely disabled son at a young age.
She remembered his grief.
She told me that most days emotions flow quietly and we can be okay and that sometimes it stops and we are overwhelmed.
We must stop.
That is how I found her.
A young Episcopal priest who just moved across the country to this small church.
And me on tour in Eugene weeks after my daughter died.
She comforted me.
She gave me succor.
Life can be so sweet.