Diary Entry #127

I don't know what has happened. The little old lady I live with was supposed to get coffee with her mother today — but she is weeping on the phone. 

It is not the normal kind of weeping.

They are tears of frustration, and I don't know what about.

She slammed the door on her way out, which is unlike her — a woman whose sole joys are feedings stray cats and bluejays.

I need to check in with her when she gets back — if not to make sure she is okay, to acknowledge that she isn't and create a space for her to vent.

She is one of those people that views shaking her head out as an immense burden on others, and she won't tell me unless I ask why her heart's hurt.

—

I am meeting up with Dorothy, Steph, and Maeve today. We're all having dinner together at a little Chinese restaurant Steph likes. 

I haven't seen Steph since we got figs together, and cried about the difficulties of life before milling-about for shelf-stable foods. It'll be good to see her — but more than anything, it'll be good to treat her and know she is eating well today.

I miss everyone.