Whitewater Gorge Floating

I'm sorry to hear. He'd heard that many people could tell when there was a widow in the room. Dogs and babies would cringe from her. The unmistakable scent of grieving and loss would cling to her like sweat. He wondered if it was the same for him. If he wore an armband that said sonless and wifeless father. 

Did he seek something for himself? He remembers his anger and frustration. He didn't know whether he wanted anything at all. He tells himself: No. I still haven't lost my faith. Finley cuts in. She is pragmatic and honed, utilitarian compared to Derg's search for his own kind of nirvana. 

"What is your sad story?" He asks Derg, and deja vu hits him. Suddenly he's back in the Word of Life confessional, listening to a stranger's plea of forgiveness through the notched wooden opening. All around the world, everyone was seeking closure or reconciliation, religious or secular. Everyone always wanted to feel complete and whole.