Smokey Mountain Breakdown

Yesterday was an odd one. It was my research day and library day and the day I sort of get out into the world. I think I got more than I bargained for. I'm a slow processor of experience.

My friend lost someone. I stood in the cold place he calls home and listened to the answering machine. We had planned a happy day, but that was not to be. And it took me a while, to realize, that I had lost someone too.

I stood there stupidly, not really hearing the name. Searching my brain for the person behind the syllables. I'm not sure exactly how long it took me to realize who she was. To fit her loss into my personal experience, but it was longer than usual. And it felt like hours, though I'm sure it was only moments.

She had given me a great gift when I met her for the first time. It was something very special though it may not seem so to others. I live here in the mountains, secluded from the beauty and fury of the literate world.

She knew exactly who Flannery O'Connor was. And I felt in that moment the excitement I feel when I find kindred. I'm sure my eyes must have lit up , when I realized she understood.

And she was gracious and lovely and all things civilized. There was not a rough edge on her and I realized how much I miss that.

Later in the day, I wandered around Newport. I went into the Food City because I was out of Cool-Aid. As I stood in the store, still not processing completely what had happened, they asked us to drop our purchases where we stood and leave the store. It was odd. And I realized that there most likely had been a bomb threat.

I didn't go back. I guess the Cool-Aid and eggnog sat there until they realized I wasn't coming back for it.

It took me a while to realize, as I drove home, that a bomb had exploded in my life. That a bomb had gone off in so many lives that day when she died.

For she really was all things gracious and lovely and civilized. Not a rough edge about her.