Doing a little better. Moving from grief alone to anger mixed in, and a terrified sense of adventure. Apartment-hunting. Contemplating packing. Growing ever-angrier at his cowardice, at being transformed into the unknowing receptacle of everything that's wrong in his life--frustrated creativity, father dying, mother failing, turning 40, being overweight, facing the void--how easy it is to simply run away, to change his environment, rather than do the adult thing and try to face what's in himself.
Everyone's been so generous in their kindness these last few weeks. People I don't know very well have responded when I've reached out, old friends are re-emerging, and I am deeply grateful.