My dad rarely wept. He was never ashamed to weep; he just accepted so much so readily, it wasn’t easy to surprise him. I think that surprise is part of pain. I think of my father as something elemental - the birth of a new geometrical shape that perpetuates eternal after the actual cube is gone. I think it is the surprise of his material absence
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You always have a place wherever I am. You are always welcome. I hope for your hapiness. I miss you.
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i grieve daily for my own things lost and gained (thought obviously these ceremonies are embarrassing in the shadow of your loss). our tears, i imagine sometimes to fall on the same seconds, miles away, but i also memorialize these with/for you& your sadness.
i wish i had more for you, more words-empathy, anything. as many others have already said, you have home at mine anytime.
this eulogy is beautiful.
i have been trying to seek your phone number from others rather than to enter your space, but the # i have is no longer functional. please email me or call me, if you feel like, so that you may hear community around you. (me: themisscreant@hotmail.com or 805.637.5582)
you are in my heart everyday.
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