Bakersfield. Drive. Atlanta.

1:03am. Home.

I don't know why, but on the way home from Bakersfield tonight I thought about a woman I knew back in Atlanta. She was blind. She had a daughter who was developmentally disabled. She was amazing. I don't remember her name. What was her name? Names are important to me. They just are.

One day I took her to the store. It tripped me out that she was buying fish. To fry. On her gas stove. Blindly. So, fried fish AND she was an artist. She used to sketch. She used a protractor and ruler and pencils and made it happen. Amazing.

The awful part. She went blind because she was in a relationship with a man who hit her. Then kept hitting her. Kept punching her in the face. In her eyes. Until she went blind.

I don't know why I keep being surprised by the cruelty in the world. But I am every time. Maybe because I know that there is so much good. And I keep thinking / hoping that maybe...