He's sitting next to be but we could be in different countries. He trying to write something to say about his father at the siyum. Earlier when I asked him about it he referred to it as an obituary, I hadn't thought of it like that. It sounds so final. It is so final.
He sitting there spending more time not writing than writing. He's thinking, checking, struggling. We haven't spoken about what he is feeling since he came back. I don't know if he spoke to anyone whilst he was in Scotland. I suspect his is the first time he is having to put in to words some of what he is feeling. It is the first time he is going to stand up in public and talk about his father. It's another sign that this is real.
The last couple of weeks we have established our new routine, things are falling in to place and we are carrying on. Whilst he was away I lost track of time to some extent and in some ways that is still going on. I sometimes forget that it has only been a month, that despite what I see the pain must still be very real and very raw.
People ask me how he's doing and I always say "ok". It's the easy answer but I don't really know what it means. I don't know what ok is any more but I don't know what else to say. I hated it when people told me that he was ok when he was sitting shiva because it didn't tell me anything but it seems to be one of the more common phrases I am using now, not that I like it anymore now I'm saying it.
I want to reach out to him but I don't know the right words to say, I don't want to interrupt him, break the train of thought. I want to hold him but I can't. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing and if not what should I do. I want to help, sitting here watching him and trying to imagine what he is going through is so hard.
I want to reach him but I will wait, we'll do this on his terms.
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