Today I taught for the first time since 9-11, started the class with a moment of silence and then steered the kids into discussions of favorite books and Beowulf. It was probably insensitive of me to ask "How do *you* want to die?" but it was such a good lead-in to discussing Beowulf and the dragon. There were lots of comments and more than a few laughs. Later I had dinner with a new friend. When I talked to Vidicon on the phone, he said it was good to hear me laugh again.
We've got to go on. But it seems harder than it ever has before. And normally I'm pretty good about not letting my mental state interfere with my work, but lately it's been a disaster. The uncertainty makes it so much worse.
I can best sum it up like this: I had every intention of going to church on Sunday morning. I felt it was important. But, as I almost always do on Sunday mornings, I overslept. When I woke up in the afternoon, I was freaked. It felt like it had been so vitally important for me to attend church and support God and country, even though I know there was only one to notice I wasn't there and He's been noticing that for a while. I figured I could go to an evening service, so I put on a dress and went, but every church I passed had an empty parking lot. Maybe I didn't look hard enough.
The helplessness haunts me. I feel like I haven't given enough cash, enough prayers, enough tears. And I feel guilty for feeling like I have a right to grieve when others have lost so much more. And I feel guilty for not pulling myself together, and I feel guilty for starting to pull myself together.
I'm not trying to understand it all too hard, though. I'm just going on. And now I'm going to go home and light a candle for all of us.