June has often been a calamitous month for me and so it was this year. For three years since I married DB, I watched him decline in physical and mental health a helpless bystander who speaks a language foreign to him. There was no way I knew to make a connection, say or do something that would spark resonance. Change always seemed right around the corner - I celebrated little victories and hoped to build on them. Yet each time a tidal wave of missteps swept it all away and I was back to chasing the mirage that is to find a common vocabulary with him. His problems were overwhelmingly big for me to solve. I chose to run away from them in fear and pray for the best outcome. Then one evening this summer he nearly died. After several days, he came home a man completely unlike the one I had married. I can't remember how many times I looked at our wedding pictures in those days that I was with him in the hospital. The pain was so intense that I could not even feel it after a point. I w
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..