Thanks

Thank you for all the cards, flowers, calls, food, prayers, and concerns. I arrived back from Corolla last night. I am going to attempt to get caught up on real life the next two days before I get back to my students on Tuesday. Everything seems different, I feel somewhat flung into the world. I am comforted by family and friends, and I have strange periods of normalcy, humor,and grouchiness.

It is hard to accept how much mental illness has taken from my family, but I know many others have experienced greater hardships than I have, so I can't wallow in self pity. Still, I am rocked by my grief. I am trying desperately to forget the shocking way my father died, and concentrate on my loss, and love for him.

Emily Dickinson was one of my father's favorite poets;

After great pain, a formal feeling comes --
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs --
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round --
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought --
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone --

This is the Hour of Lead --
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow --
First -- Chill -- then Stupor -- then the letting go --