Sarahverse

It’s possible that I’m becoming the neighborhood weirdo. I think I’m just 78% of the time either crying or in a bad head space these days and I’m getting pretty antisocial and sketchy. Yesterday when I was walking Polly, I was approached out of the blue by a neighbor who has lived on our block for a year or two. I know her well enough to wave if she’s leaving her house but I don’t know her name. She rushed toward me calling my name and I was very taken aback, in my hermit-in-a-lighthouse manner. She then said that she had tried to call me several times. I don’t know if it was her manner, or just the way I interpret things because of my depression, but it sounded like an accusation that I had been deeply negligent. She explained that she had been trying to invite me over for tea with another neighbor with whom she enjoyed afternoon tea.

I just felt like I couldn’t understand what I was being asked. Tea? Afternoon tea? With you? How? What? On what planet? Doesn’t she know Sarah is dead? I felt like some terrible, embarrassing error had been made, as if she had mistakenly invited the village idiot, or someone with Ebola virus, over for tea. I wanted to make this as simple as possible for her. “I’m sorry, I’m not socializing right now. But it was very nice of you to think of me.”

Then I just went home and got in the shower and started crying. Part of me felt very angry too. Why the hell would she think I would come over for tea? I have a dead child. This is not a normal time in the history of the universe. I cannot do normal things. I cannot drink tea.

I realize this is not me at my best. Perhaps me at my best would have gracefully accepted her invitation, or made some social noises as to how lovely that sounded and we should all definitely get together soon, what a nice idea, and let me drop off my cell phone number the next time I am out. Ultimately I could have finessed the actual tea and been busy or working or sick or something.

Or let’s face it, maybe my attitude is the reason I’m lonely a lot. I push people away. I’m prickly. People don’t meet my standards. They don’t do things “the right way.” She made me angry by not acknowledging Sarah. She did not come to Sarah’s funeral, did not send a card after she died, and did not say anything about Sarah when she invited me to tea, ask how I was doing Sarah-wise.

Isn’t it obvious that Sarah should be the center of everyones’ universe? Every conversation should be about her.