After spending the better part of the day either on the verge of tears or sobbing, I got outside on what is otherwise a glorious opening to autumn, the season of nature’s catharsis. As much as I am grateful to be alive, the seesaw of emotion between that and the loss of friends, entire once thriving neighborhoods brining with joy and bedazzled with brilliant, curious, empathetic minds that took on the hostile world and used love to counter it, and the means to a purpose, daily threaten to jettison that gratitude from the counter side of that seesaw and leaving it an irreparably injured heap on the playground of life.
