The Tipping Point

My friend Dan raved about The Tipping Point back in 2002, and I found the concept interesting but wound up abandoning that book for something fictional with plot and characterization.

The same author has a book out now, called Blink, which I chose for an ice-breaker exercise where we were asked to pick one of that week's best-selling books to sum up our summer experience thus far. I don't know why I chose "blink" and I explained as much to the group. Something about the title and description just felt right (much like the topic of the book itself).

The point is--and here's the leap--I've been thinking a lot about loss and grief lately, despite (and maybe because of) the wedding I attended this weekend. (Link is to my pictures, uploaded by Mindy. You can see where my camera crapped out in the middle of the uncaptioned gallery.)

One of us experienced a tipping point in the middle of the ceremony. My own tipping point came later, as it often does when I witness adults (defined in this instance as anyone older than me) crying. I am able to look back now somewhat objectively at how I reacted when Gloria died--suddenly and violently--as a slow spiral into complete lack of emotional range. Whereas normal functioning adults have a continuum of unhappy response (fine to peevish to irritated to pissed off to irate), I found myself jumping from "fine" to "screaming raging lunatic" in 10 seconds flat. My students at the time were, like me, completely unaware of when and how and why the change would occur. Later, when it crept out of school and into my personal life, I knew something was wrong and had to change. Eventually, and at the cost of a relationship, I got over it.

The point being... where was I going with this? I don't really remember. To speak in the broadest sense, loss makes us do uncharacteristic things, and reunions bring unexpected joys. I'm saying goodbye this week to two of my closest Houston friends, both of whom I would LIKE to write about in great detail but can't, at least not now, not without some time to process.

The next time I travel on an airplane, someone's gotta come with me. I'm done with flying alone.