I'm going to a funeral today. The father of two young children. No words can improve the situation, or indeed, no actions can as well. Not that death can ever be glossed over. My grandmother said it was the only thing that can't be made better.
And she knew a lot about grim situations. Born in the US, her parents took her back to Poland right before WWII. Wealthy, they lost everything when the Nazis stormed Poland. For two years my grandmother hid my grandfather as the Nazis came looking for him daily (he was in the Polish Underground and had escaped from a concentration camp). She also lost most of her brothers and her mother during the war.
Death can't be fixed.
I'll also go to the farmer's market and yoga. Since I got no work done yesterday I'll try to rekindle that flame as well. The mundane can be the most precious gift any of us are given.
Mostly, I'm just glad I woke up this morning.
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