Late-night sobbing

Fr. Andrew presided at our wedding; he was our spiritual director for 12 years and continues to be mine; he baptized our first son; he preached at Nick's ordination to the diaconate; he never expected to be preaching at Nick's funeral. I am adding some of our correspondence to this blog, because those emails were my journal before I found the YWBB.


August 22, 2004

Fr. Andrew,

It seems so wrong not to be in touch with you. I have to write to you even though I have nothing to say. Rather, there are no words for what I have to say.

I trust you understand.

I understand completely and have been thinking of you today.

I've been thinking that by now the house is probably empty of vistor-helpers and the new pain is setting in.

Do not hesitate to do just what you did here.

I too am at a loss for words but keep you in thought and prayer.

Abouna Andrew

August 23, 2004

Okay.

It's late at night, and I've been sobbing for 20 minutes and I hear everyone's voices telling me to call them anytime, "really I mean it, day or night." But why call when I have nothing to say and crying into the phone really doesn't cut it? And whom should I call? My family would feel bad because they're so far away and can't help me. And local friends would volunteer or even insist on coming over, and then what? The tears are exhausted and there's nothing left but apologies for calling at this ridiculous hour.

I guess that's the good thing about email... I know I'm not waking you up just to tell you I'm miserable.