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Feeling useless
Apr. 1st, 2004 07:59 pmHummed to the tune of "Feeling Groovy".
Read in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
windrose's LJ that they scattered Katherine's ashes today. Somehow it feels too soon, that all this just happened. But it's a week ago today that she left us, and a week ago tomorrow that we found out how.
I'm still torn between sadness and frustration, anger. Part of me wants to cry out "Kath, there's still room for you here," and the rest wants to ask her "Those years you threw away--can you give me a few for my Dad?"
Not one of my better sentiments, or my better days.
One good thing happened yesterday. Amid the week's worth of mail the postman dropped off, I found a thank you card. It was from a fellow writer going through a rough patch--an accident, the need for treatment and money to help cover the costs. A fund had been set up a few weeks ago, and I sent a check. The note thanked me for my donation.
I'm not patting myself on the back here. What made me feel good was that dammit, I was finally able to do something to help someone. I couldn't help Dad, and I was too far out of the loop to help Kath. But I was able to lighten another person's load a little bit, pay a utility bill or for a piece of equipment or whatever. Managed, along with the other folks who donated, to help them feel that they had friends, that they weren't going through this alone. That means everything, to know you're not alone.
Read in
windrose's LJ that they scattered Katherine's ashes today. Somehow it feels too soon, that all this just happened. But it's a week ago today that she left us, and a week ago tomorrow that we found out how. I'm still torn between sadness and frustration, anger. Part of me wants to cry out "Kath, there's still room for you here," and the rest wants to ask her "Those years you threw away--can you give me a few for my Dad?"
Not one of my better sentiments, or my better days.
One good thing happened yesterday. Amid the week's worth of mail the postman dropped off, I found a thank you card. It was from a fellow writer going through a rough patch--an accident, the need for treatment and money to help cover the costs. A fund had been set up a few weeks ago, and I sent a check. The note thanked me for my donation.
I'm not patting myself on the back here. What made me feel good was that dammit, I was finally able to do something to help someone. I couldn't help Dad, and I was too far out of the loop to help Kath. But I was able to lighten another person's load a little bit, pay a utility bill or for a piece of equipment or whatever. Managed, along with the other folks who donated, to help them feel that they had friends, that they weren't going through this alone. That means everything, to know you're not alone.
