let lemons be angry

The weight of loss is still upon me, stiff as sorrow, coarse and uncomfortable, new, biting, deep. We are like ants thrown out of a nest by water, or orphans gathering to wait for something, we are scurrying, wandering, not understanding. It would be easier if i could know and say that now mr ho is in heaven with the Father, but i can't. I went to the wake today and the coffin was closed. His somebody told us that he was sorry we couldn't see him for the last time, but he didn't think it was appropriate, and that we should remember him as he used to be. Does he say that to everyone? Does he get tired? At a time like this, when he needs comfort, he has to rise above himself to protect others.

I had a comforting thought. I did more than that one birthday present sum. There was another assignment that i did, about six questions, and they were all correct and done by me. Do you know what a comfort that is right now?