Baby mine I sing you this last lullaby Even though you’re too big to hold Too cold to sigh Too young to die No words of comfort for your mum No jokes, no words of advice Just that smile that beguiled me from your first breath In photos posed for patiently On your coming and going One final pose, the long sleep, tucked in For all eternity 22 February 2012
Posts
Anger
I began this on January 17, 2012. People recommend one write to help with the grief. When I write, I can never finish anything because I end up weeping. This is as finished as it gets. Anger. I wasn't looking forward to Christmas. I’d been downloading Christmas music, listening to it in the cabin, in the car, trying to gain some enthusiasm for the season, but after John and I had a couple phone calls, a couple emails, suddenly, we were going to spend Christmas in Atlanta, with John, and I started to get excited. Disappointment. The plan was to finish the semester, all the grading and calculating and submitting of grades, then drive to Georgia. We would leave the 21 st or so, take two days to get there, spend Christmas with John and his girlfriend, then drive home over another couple of days. Despair. They take the day off to go biking. Something – a barbecue place – takes them to Gainesville, Georgia. They enjoy their meal and get back on the road. The girlfriend sa
Not sure if this is a ‘caveat emptor’ story or what. Give a listen. Many months ago – let’s say six – Orvy and I were browsing antique stores in a little town an hour from here, which shall remain nameless, but starts with the letter Belton. We were actually picking up some furniture we’d bought for the new house, and I found an old English-made mantel clock with face and wood in good condition, a key, and the tag said “works”. Price was a bit steep, but I wound it, it chimed (Westminster chimes) – it seemed – appropriately. So I bought it and brought it home. Seems it wouldn't run for long unless tilted at about a 15 degree angle. We had reason to return to Belton the following week, and I complained to the proprietor. I really loved the clock and didn't really want to return it, but I also expected it to work, as advertised. She said there was a clock repairman a couple blocks away, and if I would take the clock there and have him phone her with the repairs, she’d