It’s late.

Nate’s been sleeping for an hour already.  But I’m sitting here, restless, thoughts running in different directions, and a heaviness- still a heaviness.  It’s hung around from last week, took some time off on Sunday, then revisited this evening and now refuses to let me sleep.  I dreamed a lot last night, and they were not happy dreams by any stretch.  So I woke up and went for a drive this morning (something I rarely do in LA).  And I did some (more) thinking.  This week marks the one year anniversary of the beginning of several of the worst weeks of my life.  I really should refrain from writing more at this point since it’s late, and anything that flows from fingers to keyboard will most surely be terribly melodramatic.  I was hoping, though, that you’d let me retell the story at some point.  I’ve come to a better understanding of the benefits of telling and retelling stories of grief/loss– in my Grief, Loss, Death, and Dying class this quarter (phew, imagine sitting through three straight hours of this material every Tuesday night!).  But for now… I’ll crawl under the covers with a book until my eyes are mercifully heavy enough to let me sleep.

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3 thoughts on “It’s late.

  1. Love that book you’re reading. “For The Beauty of the Earth.” Yay! All Christians, no matter where they are in their walk, should be required to read that book. Shame on people who haven’t! :)

  2. (But I’m sorry about the one year anniversary of such a traumatic time—if you need to debrief more, and I’m sure you do, I’ll be here all summer). :) Can’t wait to hang with you more!

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