I cannot describe what it feels like. But I can tell you what it looks like.
There is a lint ball, under our hallway chest, right next to where the lamp is plugged into the wall. It moves slightly from a miniscule breeze I cannot feel. It has a hair in it, long, mine. Hmm, now it moves back under the chest and behind the leg. And then out again. It’s very active, this lint ball.
Why do I know this? Because I’m lying on the floor. On our 2nd floor landing at the top of the stairs. My head is pressed against the wood floor, my body might be on the carpet, not sure. I didn’t plan to lie here, I just got overwhelmed in sadness and this is where I came.
To cry. To grieve for nothing and everything. At first images that flash through my head. Images of sadness, other people crying, faces of people I’ve lost.