I survived...barely.

Boy yesterday was rough.

I made three women cry.

Well, life actually made them cry but I stuck a stick in their eye and made it worse.

I interviewed three women: two widows of fishermen lost at sea and the wife of an active fisherman. All for a large story I'm working on. How painful it was to have to ask them about the last hours with their husbands and how they learned their boats sank. And how incredibly painful for them to tell their stories.

The tears were for loss: these women obviously miss their husbands terribly and, at least in one case, aren't sure how to go on now. One couple met when she was 17 and he was 15 - love at first sight. They had been inseparable. "I didn't even get to say goodbye,'' she told me.

"I can't close my eyes. I see him floating,'' the other, who had been married for 28 years, told me as tears poured down her face. She still has a son that heads to sea every day to fish, fishing the same bay where his dad drowned.

This is the reality of life at sea; the life many Downeasters experience on a daily basis.

After the series of interviews, I drove to Eastport for two meetings but the day had drained me so emotionally that as I left Eastport, an overwhelming fatigue took me over. I called and canceled the story I was set to write last night (something I NEVER do) and will write it instead this morning. Now I'll go play with 60,000 salmon eggs and get a much-needed haircut.

I'll write four other stories today but you know those women's voices will still be throbbing in my ears....and in my heart.