yesterday at church i wept through most of the service. the hymns, the tender glances from other congregants, the simplicity of the table: composure was an impossibility. i wept for troy, and for ben on his way to companion him through these difficult days. the content of the liturgy- so ordinary - was a balm, an embrace, a delicate swoosh of spirit. i needed to hear again that God cares for the poor, the sick, the lonely. i needed to hear troy's name spoken in the congregation, needed to know that a good number of the old ladies of first christian church, pomona, will tack his name on their refrigerators and whisper it in their prayers.
today after rebecca left, i roamed around the empty apartment, bewildered by the stacks of dishes and recyclables. i called family and friends, messed around with my blog design (i looked up all these html color codes and plugged them in), listened to johnny cash over and over again. and i knit. i knit nearly a foot of sage green seed-stitch, the first leg of a scarf to keep troy warm during his recovery. i felt at peace, each turn of the yarn around the needle a prayer. i have finally learned how to pray; for me, it takes the paraphernalia of knitting and the rhythmic movement of hands.