Saturday, July 25, 2015

One year

Not much to say. It's been a year. Today has been sad, serious, quiet, and also kind of ordinary. It's a strange mixture, I suppose, but that's what this past year has been like--conflicting emotions playing out as you move through this thing called everyday life.

Since the concert on Wednesday, I've been thinking about Brandi Carlile's song, "That Year," a song she wrote about a friend's suicide. It's a terrific song--honest and moving, one of the few songs I can think in which the speaker really takes herself to task for her earlier, more judgmental self. I imagine if Ryan had died when I was 16, like Carlile was when her friend died, I would have had some of the same reactions. But I wasn't 16 when Ryan died. I was 37. Much less judgmental and self-righteous than I used to be (thank God). But one phrase from the song does ring true: "You should have taken a long break / Instead of a long drop from a high place." If only he could have heard this...

Here's one more line from "That Year" that ring true: "You're my friend again." The "again" in Carlile's story is a reference to her letting go of the distance that anger put between herself and her friend after he died. For me, though, the "again" implies a kind of marker that I am hoping comes with one year behind us. The sadness won't ever leave, but maybe now I can just focus more on the good stuff, the things that made him so amazing. The things that made him my brother and my friend. The things that make me feel good.

Friday, July 24, 2015

Wolf Trap

Finally got around to seeing a show at Wolf Trap. Erin and I saw Brandi Carlile on Wednesday evening. It was a perfect night.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

My coworker

My coworker this afternoon. He is mostly in charge of moral support and cute distractions. Look at his little feet!

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

A Tale for the Time Being

Currently working on a conference paper about this amazing book. Here's a passage that stands out to me today:

"...Dad would walk me to school and we'd talk about stuff. I don't remember what, and it didn't matter. The important thing was that we were being polite and not saying all the things that were making us unhappy, which was the only way we knew how to love each other" (47).

Crushingly simple and true.