It's taken some time to decide to talk about it. It took a long time to even believe in it, though it doesn't really work that way-the dearly departed don't need our belief to truly be departed. He passed away May 11, my brother. He stopped fighting, wanted to rest finally. As I said, it took almost a month for me to believe in it, the idea that he wasn't with me in this world anymore. I didn't know how to mourn him, not when I couldn't really believe he was gone. It was easier to think he was still way out west, living in the valley of the sun, waiting for me to visit again. In small ways I've begun to accept, to let the meaning of this loss set in. I'm celebrating him in the most delightful, if not peculiar ways. I do believe he is exerting some influence from beyond, for I have taken to idling the days away shopping, or being pampered at the spa. F. Scott Fitzgerald is off the shelf again, each page poured over with intense concentration, memorizing the details of this dress, or that scene. And all the Audrey Hepburn movies, of course. Midnight comes and goes, one and two o'clock, eventual I do wander off to bed. I'm either recovering marvelously or dreadfully, I haven't decided which it is yet.
11:27 a.m. - 2007-06-26
Recent entries:
meanwhile - 2016-08-10
interpol wants my cacti - 2016-07-31
6:58 are you sure where my spark is? - 2016-07-30
armchair apocrypha - 2016-07-29
less everyday - 2016-07-27
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
nineofswords
marn
tarkis