Journal entry by Al Negstad — a minute ago
Now I've had two wedding anniversary's since Joanne died. In a few days it will be 14 moths since her death. About 3 months ago I began to feel like myself again. The distance from her, as a living presence, grows. There is ambivalence in this distance. On the one hand, my life in the land of grief has normalized. On the other hand, there is grief in that growing distance.
My grand-niece, Julia, just graduated from high school and will be going to Gustavus Adolphus College this fall. This afternoon, family and friends gathered with her to congratulate her and wish her well. She's a very fine young women. Grief was my companion at this joyous occasion. Of course, Joanne was absent, but so was Richard, Julia's grandfather and my brother, who died at 62, before Julia was born. Julia and Richard would have been such a wonderful pair. How sad Richard never met his grandchildren and how sad they never knew him. It was another of those occasions of 'grief touching grief' even in the midst of joy.
Richard was born 4 years before I, and was a huge presence in my boyhood. It's hard to fathom that I am now 18 years older than he, when he died. All deaths rob the survivor of the mutual, shared history, and with whom is there shared history as with a sibling?
So, there you have today's report from the land of grief, and, yet, I remain profoundly grateful.
Takk for alt,
Al
My grand-niece, Julia, just graduated from high school and will be going to Gustavus Adolphus College this fall. This afternoon, family and friends gathered with her to congratulate her and wish her well. She's a very fine young women. Grief was my companion at this joyous occasion. Of course, Joanne was absent, but so was Richard, Julia's grandfather and my brother, who died at 62, before Julia was born. Julia and Richard would have been such a wonderful pair. How sad Richard never met his grandchildren and how sad they never knew him. It was another of those occasions of 'grief touching grief' even in the midst of joy.
Richard was born 4 years before I, and was a huge presence in my boyhood. It's hard to fathom that I am now 18 years older than he, when he died. All deaths rob the survivor of the mutual, shared history, and with whom is there shared history as with a sibling?
So, there you have today's report from the land of grief, and, yet, I remain profoundly grateful.
Takk for alt,
Al
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