Reflections
Feb. 8th, 2007 10:34 amIt's been two weeks now since I got the news that Mom died, and slowly I've been integrating myself back into a normal life. I don't really want to write about what things have been like for me the past few weeks, but I can't just go back into blogging without acknowledging the changes that have taken place in my life, not to mention the changes that have yet to come. Ignoring my personal life completely to post another commentary on writing or science fiction seems slightly perverse to me.
So this will be something of a self-indulgent post, a way of easing myself back into fuller participation on LiveJournal, just as I have to ease myself back into all other aspects of my life. You can decide for yourself how much you want to read of it.
( Read more... )
The hardest part will be finding that new "normal" that Rabbi Shmuel Feld mentioned at Mom's funeral. Almost every day of my adult life, Mom left me messages on my answering machine to let me know she was fine, and I always called her to check in as well. The day before she died, we exchanged similar messages, and it feels so weird playing that message from her now. I listen to her voice telling me that everything is fine, even though I know that the next day, it all ended. I so desperately want to talk to her one last time, but I can't. Instead, I come home to an empty answering machine, and I have no one to call anymore who needs me to check in.
So this will be something of a self-indulgent post, a way of easing myself back into fuller participation on LiveJournal, just as I have to ease myself back into all other aspects of my life. You can decide for yourself how much you want to read of it.
( Read more... )
The hardest part will be finding that new "normal" that Rabbi Shmuel Feld mentioned at Mom's funeral. Almost every day of my adult life, Mom left me messages on my answering machine to let me know she was fine, and I always called her to check in as well. The day before she died, we exchanged similar messages, and it feels so weird playing that message from her now. I listen to her voice telling me that everything is fine, even though I know that the next day, it all ended. I so desperately want to talk to her one last time, but I can't. Instead, I come home to an empty answering machine, and I have no one to call anymore who needs me to check in.