For me, there are two kinds of Things in the World.

There are the Fixable, and the Unfixable.  And really, it is as simple as that.

This month begins the anniversary of the ultimately Unfixable.  Losing Silas is something I can learn to deal with or not, but I cannot ever change it.

I figure it is still essentially an even bet at this point.  Odds might be slightly leaning in favor of mental stability and longtime survival, but I’ve only had a year to assess, and conditions could change.

I expect this month to be awful, but it won’t be as bad as last October.  And at least I know what I’m getting into, on some level.  But life is full of surprises.

Even the mundane can be surprising.  That I can get out of bed.  That I have not slipped silently to the edge of everyday life.  That the sunset is beautiful every single time.

So I suppose I should not have been surprised when I got a call from Lu on Sunday morning that I could barely understand at first, because she was sobbing hysterically.  She was a in a car accident.  No one else was involved.  She was fine, completely and totally fine, but the car was not.  A spider had startled her and she veered onto the median and then spun out across the highway.

There was a period where she was traveling backwards down the highway, the driver’s side scraping against the right-side guardrail before being spun back out into the center of the road that is impossible to understand.  Even more impossibly no cars hit her and she missed all those around her.  She spliced into a wormhole and avoided unfixable disaster by an invisible thread of a spider’s web.

Should we feel lucky?  I think so.  Sure, it will cost some cash to put the car back together new, but really, who gives a shit?  I would pay any amount of money to ensure Lu will always be safe.  I would offer unimaginable sums to have Silas back.  All of that is impossible.  Fixing the car is not.

In a way I’ve become immune to the everyday bullshit that gets people down.  Lu still feels beset on all sides by dangerous forces.  She’s waiting for the good news to change everything about our lives.  I’m amazed she still retains that capacity for hope and optimism.  The very fact that she believes with all her heart that eventually things will get better proves that her spirit is unquenchable and forward-looking.

I don’t have that.  Somehow through my pragmatic realism (read fatalist/pessimist) I manage to stay rather content and at times now even happy.  But my baseline for success is extremely basic and direct.

My fundamental goal is to get through the day and not completely freak out because my son is still dead.  Every time I do that, I fucking rock.

If I can actually do my job and roast a sweet batch of beans, or find a new account or put another piece together that improves my business and career, well then get out the fucking horns and strobe lights ’cause we’re gonna have a party.

For Interacting With Other Humans Successfully Without Revealing Disaster I give myself a delicious beer.  For Making Necessary Phone Calls or Mailing Items At the Post Office I am rewarded with either chocolate or an hour with the paper, or both.  For Getting out of Bed, I’m owed a Nap.

I’m not waiting for life to get Lucky for me.  I’m have no expectations beyond more of the unexpected, all the time.  I don’t think it will ever be better.  There will be good times I’m sure, but I’ve seen the darkness.  I’ve felt it pervade my being with a terrible and helpless truth that I can never unfeel.

Life is not just what happens to us, but also how we deal with it.  I’ve learned, this year, that I can deal with almost anything, somehow or another.  I can hold on to the core of my being when reality itself is being torn asunder.  I hate the way it feels to be in this life, but it is pain made of up of truth and love and longing that is incredibly raw and real. I have to live extra because Silas could not.

That Lu came so close just the other day is beyond terrifying, beyond thought.  Is it appropriate to feel as though something or someone was looking over her the other day?  I don’t even believe in that in the least but I cannot help but think it.  Can I do that?  Can I put Silas in the spots where I need or want him?  Can I fill in the mysteries and rare magic with his impossible presence?  And once down that path, where does it lead?

Above all, though, there’s at least one thing more I have to know.  I can’t get it out of my brain, from the second Lu told me in hysterical shock, when she spun out on 91 and lived to tell about without a scratch or a bump.  I could not help but wonder…What happened to the spider?  I’m sure it’s still alive.  So is Lu.  So am I.  Some days, though, one year later, I really don’t know how.

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