I think I have finally wrapped my brain around why it’s so hard for me that Argo has walked off. It’s like the parable of the one lost sheep that the shepherd searches for until he’s finally found her. Of course I care about the other sheep. Of course I do. But one is lost, and some part of me wants to search for her until she is found, rejoicing and fireman carrying her to safety. This image is hilarious in my own mind, because I can’t fireman carry a 2-liter of soda without getting winded. But anyway. Lost sheep. My other 99 are fine.
I wasn’t a very good shepherd back then. I was too proud, too anxious, too wrapped up in my own life to see beyond it. I couldn’t be the person she needed me to be, because honestly, I couldn’t see her. God, I tried. I just didn’t see the ways I was failing her until it was too late, and Dana’s ruminations on the subject did not help, because they drove the relationship further into my own madness instead of back toward safety. So that sheep is lost to me, and instead of focusing on the other 99, I am lost in the wind and the rain of trying to find that one.
Yesterday I was lost in thought, wishing I could tell her about my interview at the church, and I ordered her a present online that is cheap and very unique. Thought she might want it for her office or something. When I put the shipping address on it, it asked for my name. So the label looks like I’m sending it to myself at her house. D’OH. I e-mailed her and said that a package was coming and the mixup in the label. No reply, but it didn’t matter. To want a reply means it wasn’t sent in the spirit of giving, anyway. I literally just wanted to say, “you’ve meant something in my life.” I so want to spill the beans on what it is. I can’t keep a secret for shit. But this is so unique that I can’t take a chance it won’t get back to her somehow. All I will tell you is that it is made of glass.
So the spirit of giving is alive and well, because at least if my lost sheep stays lost, it’s not like I haven’t sent out a rescue mission.