A Sadness Less Pure

I returned from Seattle planning to formally end my period of bereavement and stepping back into my yoke. Didn’t work. I retreat to my bed for hours on end. This accounts for my quietness here. Words came more easily right after my father’s death. Perhaps because the pure love from which my sadness came made it easy to focus. Now it is one month since the death of my father. He was the man we eulogized. But he was my father. He loved me but as a human being, he failed me a number of times in his life time. Several of my father’s failings have come to light since his death. At first it was shocking, after all of my pure grief, to feel angry at him. Then I laughed at how familiar it felt.

Sadness about friends with breast cancer is also familiar and fucked up. I reach out to the families who navigate these seemingly godless waters and pray for healing and comfort. And for us all.. Shabbat Shalom.