Part of "the problem" - how should I proceed? - is my job. I really love it, is the thing. And I'm good at loving it. I've got two highly competetive national grants now to evidence that healthcare providers' troubles start in the making of them. The world changes, and anybody standing near healthcare has eyes on it - on the plagues of every kind, from pandemics to bullets to addictions, always woven tightly with human constants of love greed fear loathing hope despair life death. I don't want to have to leave the life I've built around this love. Why do I always have to do that? WHY? Every time I am forced to let go a Love, I feel all the prior times over again, over and over and over. All mashed up in my mind and heart, the still-missed smell ft the still-loved feel of new school supplies.
I never have as much control over what befalls me as I need. Nobody does, is the upshot.
After a long half decade now of friends fired, programs closed, familiar faces dead and gone, I'm facing it again: I will have to let go of a great love in order to survive.
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| screech owl in Reinstein Park - look closely, he's staring right at you, a bit of white fluff on his chest (I always go for a downy chest) - I go visit him alone at dusk, we stare at each other and he seems to be telling me that just like I can see him when nobody else can spot him, I could see a path if I could focus correctly somehow |
