BY MARY PALNAU
Maybe I’m still in shock.
Maybe I’m afraid to cry–like it would mean I’m more depressed than I want to show even myself.
Maybe it’s because we haven’t had the service yet and I’m use to the service being within a few days.
Maybe it’s because I often thought something like this would happen to John.
Maybe it’s because I’m relieved he didn’t commit suicide.
Maybe I’m staying too busy and not letting myself be quiet enough to cry.
Maybe it’s because I’m angry at John for not taking care of himself.
Maybe I want to cry to feel the relief it may give me but I cannot make myself cry.
Maybe I’m just not ready to cry.