My father died, last night, after a long battle with Alzeheimers and lung cancer. He was an amazing person, born during the depression, in DC., his family survived by taking in borders and sharing meals. He describes selling papers, on the steps of the Capitol, as a young boy. His best memories were his first trip to the Baltimore library, meeting my mom and her wonderful family, his success as a scientist, at Xerox, and his life as a young dad. He adored his grandchildren, and to keep them close, designed a beautiful house, right on Bodkin Creek, near where he grew up in Glen Burnie MD. He holds many patents for his work at Xerox and is the true 'American Dream' success story of the guy who, through hard work, and saving, rose out of poverty, thanks to brains, great social skills, and good values. He loved to read, to sing, and to entertain, and was a huge influence on me, both musically and intellectually. I will write more, when I feel a little better, but I'm utterly heartbroken. I just can't even imagine a world without him in it.
The grief is like a terrible dulling of everything. It's like cringing away from the world. How can I stand anything trite,or petty, or mean, or stupid, or loud, or difficult, or mundane, or greedy, or cynical, or ugly. How can I stand anything. Routine is the only thing that eases the pain. The impulse is to stay in bed, but no matter how good the TV show is it does nothing to ease the pain. Only work, chores, etc. distract enough to lift the weighted blanket of despair.