The deep breath of relief seeped through my body as the juice of the vaccine squirted from the needle into my arm.
I didn’t shout with joy. I didn’t pose for a picture. I just thought how fortunate I was to finally receive this life saving serum.
And as I sat contentedly, a friend mourned the loss of her husband, not from Covid but from cancer and Parkinson and the deadly effects of both. One life saved, another gone, and the joy of one can’t compete with the sadness of the other.
I don’t know how to comfort those who are attempting to grasp the vacancy a death creates. Words, hugs, food, messages, listening, tears, presence: they can distract from the darkness, but not eradicate it. Only time renders relief.
Grieving is a private journey; one without a map or a calendar. Where the mind wanders, the heart aches, and the length of time it takes to finally feel peace is a personal trek unlike another’s. But, someday you accept, adjust, look forward without regret.
I’m grateful for the vaccine I received, and I look forward to the second shot. But I’m sorry for each passing and the pain those remaining must endure. My heart cries for you, and I wish for you peace and light and joy and wonderful memories of your loved one.
Rest in Peace, each and everyone who have traversed the path we do not see.
that little voice 
*tears running down my cheeks* P
>
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Mine too, Paula. They are very good friends.
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That is sad and your words pictured it perfectly!
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Thank you Teresa.
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