well said Daniel

m and i went to mom's house this weekend to continue the cleaning out process.i had the longest and deepest cry i've had since she died this weekend - i think having some distance, and then coming back to her house was what did it. i finally had some feelings of anger (elizabeth kubler-ross would be pleased) -why am i here to pack up mom's belongings intstead of here to visit her? it's not fair!

thanks to jenny for thirst, by mary oliver (one of my and jenny's favorite poets).

one of my favorite poems in the book so far is called Heavy.

Heavy

That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying

I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had His hand in this,

as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,

was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry

but how you carry it--
books, bricks, grief--
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?

Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?

How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe

also troubled--
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?