Regression

Today started like any other, new, Saturday for me, I forced myself to sleep in a little later than usual. I managed to lay still until about 7:00. Then I felt the nasal pressure affecting my smile and knew I had to make good on the promise I gave my sister in law that I would be in a "Doc in the Box" by 8:00. I decided breakfast and a cup of coffee would be required, goodness knows how long a doctor visit would take.  I was half heartily watching a movie on Lifetime, when certain aspects of the program caught my attention I became entranced by the story line. A man was imprisoned for a crime, he said, he did not commit. An attorney had reviewed his case and asked his paralegal to begin researching the old case file. Before they could begin, the attorney died. Now the focal point of the story, by it's title, "Wrongly Accused," or something like that was about the 22 year imprisonment of this innocent man, I, related to the paralegal. At the onset she had lost two husbands to death. This made her squeamish of funerals, so she sat outside the church of her attorney friends memorial, my best friends son past recently, I could only get as close as the church parking lot. This was an outspoken, go-getter woman with an outward facade of invincibly, behind closed doors the fetal position was her solace. I live in that circle.
At any rate she meets a man, they fall in love and he asks her to marry him. She is reluctant because of her past experience, and of course other twists from her youth, and, he needs an organ, heart, kidney or the like, I missed that part I didn't want my french toast to burn. She finally accepts, they marry, he supports her efforts on behalf of the innocent man  and life is pretty good. He finally gets the transplant, they start to make plans, then she wakes up one morning to find him laying next to her eyes open looking in the direction of the left (embracing or revisiting the past). My average new morning turned to an old familiar past and I heard a bellow of mourning pierce my solitude and I was crying uncontrollably as I did for eight months straight several times a day five years ago. One of my best friends, from my BFF from high school triangle, once told my that purging myself of the grief through tears was good and let it flow, so I do. I always feel better afterward. This time I fell to my knees and praised God and asked for the continued protection of my loved ones and some enemies, I ain't so good to pray for all my snakes yet, but he ain't done wit' me...   I got up, finished the movie, dressed, saw the doc, it's just a sinus infection.
When Melvin passed, he was looking to the right, this is embracing and going forward to the future. That gives me comfort.

Tomorrow