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I think that I might be having an existential breakdown. That, or I’m just exhausted and depressed after a month of dealing with the aftermath of my father’s death. Or both. I think both. The death of my father rattled me in a way that I could never have expected. I knew, of course, that…

This is the skyline as we approach our temporary home, the place that we are staying as we attend to the business of my father’s life and death. It’s the sky, behind a thick veil of smoke. Today, a few days later, the veil is even thicker, and the ash falls like snow outside our…

My husband and children are finally with me now, after two long weeks apart. And tomorrow we say goodbye to my father, formally, for good. And then life will go on. I will continue to struggle through the work of dealing with his affairs – which is immense, but also good, in a way, it being the last…

I had said that I wanted – that I needed – to narrate this process, this journey through the experience of my father’s death. But it’s hard. I return to my bed (so far from home) at the end of each day and I am fatigued to the very tippy-toes of my soul. So while…
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