End of summer, start of a new year
This has been a weird and disturbing summer. In July a former colleague of mine was killed by his wife who then committed suicide. The tabloid press portrayed a relationship that was so different from the person we all knew and the event itself was shocking -- the sort of thing one expects to see in a passing headline, not the sort of thing one expects to have touch your own life.
In August I was in California to help a cousin whose wife was dying. I returned a week ago when she died, leaving two children and a destroyed husband. He is so devastated, in such pain, so empty right now that it breaks my heart. But he has found some comfort in writing his thoughts and has kept a wonderful online journal -- not really a blog -- through the whole ordeal. A few years ago a good friend died. About three or four months before the end her partner of over 20 years apparently decided he couldn't handle it anymore and literally disappeared out of her life, leaving her to deal with the emotional impact of his desertion at the same time that she was trying to absorb and accept the fact that she was not going to survive much longer. I can't help but compare my cousin's loving attentiveness, loyalty and total devotion for the past 14 or 15 months to the abominable callousness and selfishness of my friend's partner.
And then there were the hurricanes. My family has some roots in New Orleans and an elderly cousin of mine was living there when Katrina hit. Fortuately she not only got out of the city but was also spared the horrors of the Superdome and the Convention Center. She was evacuated to Baton Rouge before the storm even hit. She is with her daughter up north now, deciding whether or not to try to go home to see what might be salvaged from the wreckage. But three generations of family memories and probably of family graves are lost.
Rosh Hashanah starts tomorrow and I pray for a happy and healthy New Year. The last few weeks of the past one left a great deal to be desired.
In August I was in California to help a cousin whose wife was dying. I returned a week ago when she died, leaving two children and a destroyed husband. He is so devastated, in such pain, so empty right now that it breaks my heart. But he has found some comfort in writing his thoughts and has kept a wonderful online journal -- not really a blog -- through the whole ordeal. A few years ago a good friend died. About three or four months before the end her partner of over 20 years apparently decided he couldn't handle it anymore and literally disappeared out of her life, leaving her to deal with the emotional impact of his desertion at the same time that she was trying to absorb and accept the fact that she was not going to survive much longer. I can't help but compare my cousin's loving attentiveness, loyalty and total devotion for the past 14 or 15 months to the abominable callousness and selfishness of my friend's partner.
And then there were the hurricanes. My family has some roots in New Orleans and an elderly cousin of mine was living there when Katrina hit. Fortuately she not only got out of the city but was also spared the horrors of the Superdome and the Convention Center. She was evacuated to Baton Rouge before the storm even hit. She is with her daughter up north now, deciding whether or not to try to go home to see what might be salvaged from the wreckage. But three generations of family memories and probably of family graves are lost.
Rosh Hashanah starts tomorrow and I pray for a happy and healthy New Year. The last few weeks of the past one left a great deal to be desired.
posted by Knit Me A Poem at 7:18 PM
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