Thanks for the outpouring of support—it was comforting.
It's impossible to stop thinking about Karen, everything is a painful reminder. Like when I rode the train to work yesterday and saw all the bright, new green leaves on the trees—a beginning that seemed incongruous with the tragic ending of Karen's life. Like when I was looking through my cellphone for a phone number and came upon Karen's; I wanted to call it and leave her a message. Like when I gave Max and Sabrina hugs, and I thought of how much Karen loved her own children.
Dave had tickets to see The Dead last night. I didn't feel like going but then I thought, Karen would have wanted me to go. So, we went. I swayed along to the music, I breathed in the pleasant aromas (!), I cried in the dark for Karen during the long riffs.
Here's a crappy photo.
Karen's wake is Thursday. I'll be going, but I cannot decide whether or not I want to actually see her. I want to remember her alive. Yet part of me also wants to glimpse her one last time. I am torn.
