Life goes on in face of the death of the Friedling. I work and read and enjoy the red buds - and sorrow sits in the back of my heart. I have a yearning to wear a traditional Jewish mourning ribbon for a month for this grand child i will never hold - but probably that's too dramatic -just a yearning. I wish Bob and I had been able to talk more this week. I need him now and last night we had some kind of technical glitch with his phone and were cut short - cut short again tonight because his throat was hurting from yelling out numbers for an event at his school's Spring Fling (very successful and fun - so that at least is good). He'a about to be home for a week, but I'm having toruble waiting.
I don't go twenty minutes without thinking about Ruth and Chris, wondering what they are doing, thinking, feeling. I check and comment on Ruth's blog compulsively - a lifeline - connection I can have with them without getting in their way while they grieve together. I know they will visit the baby's body at the funeral home tomorrow and place it in the vessel for cremation. Knowing that floods me with tenderness for themand with memories of the cold reality of going to the funeral home to pick up Kerry's cremains in their cardboard container - Marie drove me. Ruth had a swimming lesson that day. All I wanted to do was sleep. Sorrow connects to sorrow. And love is stronger than loss.