Sometimes you just need a Sister part 2

The grief was taking over in the car. My handkerchief was getting damp and I needed comfort. Who? Who would I let see me this exposed, this raw and pitiful. I picked up the phone and squinted my eyes through the tears to see the number. It dialed, and went to voicemail.

I can carry this by myself, a few more minutes and then I’ll drive home. But my arms were shaking and my shoulders were still working up and down as my chest expanded and contracted ,from trying to cry and breath simultaneously. I needed her, now. Why didn’t she pick up. I needed her more than I could ever remember. I dialed again. I wiped my eyes with my handkerchief. Voice mail. A silent sob escaped my chest. I’ve never felt so alone. There is one more option. I scrolled down my address book and find RYAN KIND OF A FRIEND BOY. I dial. He picks up.

“Mar-ay!! How you doing buddy?”

“Camille,” is all I can get out without my voice breaking. Even without the break, he can tell something is not right. He hands it to her without another word.

“Mary?” Concern.

“Sister.”  My shoulders start move faster and my chest expands with grief, pumping water from my drowning heart. And I cried.

“Sister.” Through the sobs it’s the only word I can say. The emotional is expanding past my physical and my body doesn’t know how to handle it. Anguish escapes my body anyway it can. I weep into the phone, tears flowing in between the buttons, my breath ragged from sobbing, my nose runny from snuffling, my body tired at the whole ordeal.

“Mary, Mary, are you hurt where are you. Speak to me honey.”

That’s right priorities first. Establish setting and condition.

“I’m at a park-- in the car. I—I—said goodbye to Luke.” That’s all she needs. I’m safe but hurt, but across a thousand miles her heart replaces mine.

“Sweetie, It’s going to be okay. Just cry, let it out. I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”