Saturday
I had a really good week at school, followed by crying myself to sleep on Thursday. I tend to obsess on one idea for a while, and get sad about it, before moving on to another sad thought.
Seeing a friend of Lev's who had grown taller, seeing Lev's shoes, etc. This week, it is the fact that Jaal doesn't have a brother. I've cried about it on and off for a few days now.
Sometimes I think that I can't understand Lev's death in its entirety, so I absorb little parts again and again.
Jaal doesn't have a brother, why? Is it really true? What does it mean? What will it mean for him later? When in your life do you need your brother? Does it make Lev's life more or less meaningful? How is having a brother who dies different than being an only child. What is the purpose of life, of family? How can we feel so empty?
I may ask myself these questions, but it's mainly just sadness. I feel like I had given Jaal this wonderful gift of Lev, and now that has been taken away from us all.
So, I have been sad, as usual, but still had a nice time dancing at Tony's gig, hanging with friends on Friday night.
I awaken to a call from a teacher at my school who is calling to say that her eighteen year old step-son was killed by a car last night. She did not know who else to call, after being up all night.
As if I am some sort of expert now. I know all the things that you can say that don't help. Yet, I am left with nothing to say that might help. We cried on the phone together and I told her and her husband about the local grief group for parents who lost a child. I know that there is nothing I can do.
I bought a yellow rose for the boy who died. I look at the rose and feel sorry for myself and for them.
It smells faintly of a rose, as Lev's shirts smell faintly of him and old laundry.
Rebecca
