29 NOV 05
"When you asked me about having a secret, I thought it was just a form of greeting." The strong feelings of fondness that arise in an atmosphere of grief. Bloodroot blooming in a glass bowl ("I thought I'd made the most beautiful thing I'd ever made").
"Listen, keep in touch--I know you won't." "Do you ever travel just to get away?" "Are you still drawing and stuff?" "...the way the sun and the full moon work..." What is "natural"?
"She hoped to bring equality and balance to those who had no voice." Where do we go from here? "We will recede back to living..."
Inside the funeral home, seeing pictures of her that kept replacing one another on a screen, I began to cry, with sound, and the old fear of being unable to stop pushed me toward the door, out into the air. In a minute or two, I felt a friendly hand on my shoulder, and her mom said gently, "Is that you making all that noise?" which made me laugh.
. . . . .
