Sharing
On January 26, 2018 I eulogized my beloved father. I woke up knowing it was going to be a terribly emotional day. I cried a lot. I got showered and dressed, looking as pretty as I could muster, as though it mattered. I sobbed some more. Then, on the road driving to the church, I got angry. What in the world were all of these people doing out on the road, like nothing big was happening? How DARE they go on like the world was the same?? My irrationality was real, and my emotions were raw, my nerves frayed at the ends. Yes, we had said goodbye two weeks before, but now, now we had to honor him in front of people....share a piece of ourselves at the memorial service and tell the world about him, as if that could ever encompass him, as if it could ever be enough. By September of 2017, the writing was on the wall. We (if we admitted it to ourselves) knew that his body was failing him. Our hopes of a miracle, that he would suddenly be well again, were now turning towards...