Gone

I'd worked a full day. I'd attended a meeting that lasted until well after 10 p.m. I was tired. Too exhausted to react.

The Lizard gently leaked news he'd deleted his blog before I got home.

It's not the same kind of grief as accidentally killing a praying mantis, the car being broken into and the stereo, the kids' Gameboys and the first aid kit being stolen, the tree in the front yard being cut down without warning by the homeowners' association, breaking the grow light before even getting it out of the package, an annual balloon festival being permanently cancelled due to lack of sponsorship, a favorite sunflower field being mowed as thistle control...

Yet grief storms in nonetheless. Pure and unabashed grief. Somewhat akin to coming home one night in May (each year) to find The Lizard has shaved his head without letting me know in advance. Because bald is more comfortable for him while wearing a cycling helmet for hours a day.

I don't even have a screenshot of my favorite Lee Zard blog post. (But I do have my favorite photo from his blog... because I snapped the picture!)

The Lizard read what I typed, right over my shoulder, asked me to move, and sat down to type, right in my journal:

"The Lizard lives!!!"

Yes, he does, and for that, I'm grateful.

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