Friday, November 21, 2014


today marks a year that my dad has been gone.  a year when memories have flooded,
'missing' has become a very active verb and sometimes a deluge of incapacitating grief.  i feel marked in a new way in life, an inability to look around death as a giant easterisland monolith in the road makes for slower traveling, i think.  there it is, the huge rocky mystery in the road, again.
today is also a friday. the relief i was expecting, naively, is not there.  i suppose i thought that the 'year of firsts' ending would be some relief, but the truth is that there will be so many thousands of 'firsts' that i can't share with my dad, and that still is a fucking humdinger to my heart.
my closed-up walnut heart. 
someone tried to pry it open these past weeks and it slammed so hard shut that i have been reeling this week.. it is hard to be so closed, when the world is full of tiny little beauties.  and it is, and if i could find my camera, i would show you.  i suspect the kids have taken it to record tv shows again. ( a stunningly redundant use of a camera, yes?)

i will leave you here, now...

love to you.