What to Say

I've been keeping a list of things I want to write about here. That list is now so spectacularly long that I'm going to throw it out and start a new one. Or not start a new one. Or something like that.

We had a fantastic long weekend. One of my all-time favorite folks in the entire world is in town, and she and her adorable childen and several other of our friends joined us for a chaotic but fun barbeque-and-fireworks evening. So much smiling and laughter and hugging of children and each other. My friends rule. Seriously. If you're not jealous, you should be.

That fantastic long weekend was much needed, and thus even more appreciated. It followed a week in which I learned of the suicide of the 18-year-old daughter of one of my online friends, and then had to cover/deal with (from a PR point of view) the suicide of a patient from the local county hospital, who crossed the street and threw himself off of one of my school's research buildings. So much sadness and grief. And even as they jumpstarted my anxiety attacks--or, rather, re-jumpstarted, were there such a word--they also slapped me upside the head a little, and told me to snap out of it. I didn't have to bury my daughter this week, after all. I didn't feel so much unrelenting despair that I would walk up nine flights of stairs, take off my shoes and line them up side by side, put my wallet and my cell phone beside them, and then stride to the ledge of a building and, quietly, jump. For that, for the lack of immediate and inconceivable tragedy in my life, and for the presence of so many good and loving and funny and smart people in my life, I am very, very grateful.