I so wanted ita to have a chance to be ita again.
Yes, in all - in the lack of a better word - technical, "outside" terms, in terms of what can be actively done and take place.
But, to me, in my eyes, in her spirit and heart and soul, the way she dealt with an such an unbelievably impossible situation, and dealt with it with such strangth, courage, grace and fierceness - she kravved the hell out of that aweful hand the universe had dealt her. She's a total hero.
And now I'm crying again.
I don't know what to do. I just gave Mr Peabody a dog biscuit for no reason.
We let in pre, thank goodness.
He's there with you. That's reason enough, Ginger.
Damn my Internet glitching! Sorry for the doublepost.
Thank you, Betsy, for posting both the reminder to Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem, and the e. e. cummings one.
(And, hey, I dozenposted somehow by mistake earler. You're so much better than me!)
Betsy, I'm going with Emily Dickinson:
The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon Earth.
The Sweeping up the Heart
And putting Love away
We shall not want to use again
Until Eternity.
This is too much loss. It's just all too much.
Nilly, I am wanting to do something. Anything. Motion is easier than not. But I have to work so I have to have some semblance of okay before my students walk in. Thank you for asking.
I just got out a mundane work meeting and saw Hec on FB saying check in. I'm stunned and saddened by the news. I hope everyone is (okay) and has someone they can talk to.