Mandala in the Office

Her office is a mandala.

Every time I forget what the meaning of the word means, I am reminded by experience.
By trying to hold on to things and people.

She was supposed to go on vacation right after me. As the wheels of my car rolled downhill and I thought,
I grieved her vacation,
I thought of her
and I heard her voice break through and say 'let me go'

and the accent fell on the 'o' like the exhasperated childish voice I remember hearing sometimes when she was frustrated.

Maybe I was the one she let hear that for some reason;
and my God, that was one way I related to her so much.

Overworked and wanting to win the lottery...

GET ME OUT OF THAT OFFICE.


You can psychoanalyze it all you want and tell me that it was my voice-- but I complain about ALL my jobs. 100 % of all jobs. I complain. And maybe my job there isn't done and that's why I'm not gone yet.

But, her job is done.
And she was due to be in Jamaica March 14th if she hadn't died.

I kind of feel like I owe it to her to tell someone about this experience in my car, so this is what I'm doing.

That's why I'm calling her office a mandala.

Stop holding a place for someone who is not coming back.