Now my life has changed. I feel tremendous pressure to live--I have only a sister, there are only 3 of us in my immediate family now, down from 5. I can't die, it would be too much for my mother and sister. I hope they take their lives as seriously as I take mine, I couldn't handle having anything happen to them, either. I drive more carefully, watching the cars around me--"Hey! don't cut in front of me, I can't die!" No, I won't follow people to their destinations and lecture them on safe driving habits the way they do in Vermont, but I'm watching all of you, betwen my house and my work.
It's supposed to be very warm today, unbelievable for here. The tulips at work are very high, no buds yet but the plants are obvious and energetic. My daffodils at home are working hard as well. Crocuses are showing everywhere. I forgot where I put clumps so it's a pleasant surprise, a tribute to my father. He used to put small bunches of crocuses in the lawn here & there so they'd be cute surprises in the spring. One of my friends gave me money to buy daylilies in memory of my brother. Well, Fred likes daylilies, I like Asiatic lilies, but I'll buy daylilies, either will be appropriate to Henry's memory. There are wonderful daylilies these days and I'll have fun ordering them from a catalog and getting fancy ones. I'll have to give lots of thought to where I'll put them, another thing I never do in gardening--act like a real gardener.
I'm at work, pretending to care about my job. It all seems so trivial now. Is this what life is really about? Shouldn't we be doing something more meaningful? Kristen at least has a job that matters, that changes the course of life in our country. I just give people books to read, and do less and less of that as the books disappear and are never returned. I used to really believe in what I do. Now I believe in loss of life and the ensuing devastation for the survivors. I miss my brother. I miss his future. I miss the promise of the things I was going to learn from him that he would have enjoyed teaching me. I loved having him explain things to me--even when he didn't really understand them, but especially when he DID understand them and felt so great to be ablel to help me that way. Then he'd be impressed by my use of his assistance. A sweeter man I don't think I've found.
Walked to camp yesterday, crying all the while. Once I got there it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. Good cheer found it's way to my heart. There was just enough open water for the dogs to swim a bit--Tess only swam because Chances did and Jack thought it didn't look like that much fun. I walked around all the buildings and pronounced them safe. Didn't go inside any of them. I think I WILL be able to stay there this summer, sad, but appreciative of the beauty and comfort the place will offer me. It's Henry's boat house in many ways, that's for sure.
Saturday's mail brought two cards: one from my boss (ack) and one from...MA Moore. A trip to the mailbox hardly worth making, wouldn't you say? I hardly functioned at all for the last 4 days. Lay on the couch, watched tv, did crossword puzzles, napped. Spoke to 2 people on the phone, once I turned the ringer back on. I had taken a 2 day break from communicating with the outside world, which felt wonderful. Being selective in who you speak with is the best therapy.
And now it's time to shuffle some papers around my desk.