(no subject)

[pauraque_bk]

My mom's obituary was in the paper today. I still can't believe she's gone. I keep starting to think of something I want to tell her or show her, and then remembering I can't.

rikibeth asked if there was a charity people could donate to in her memory, and I have an answer now. Not two weeks ago, my mom joined Amnesty International, which works against human rights violations worldwide. For anyone who did want to donate, that would be a good choice.

If you find for whatever reason that you can't donate to AI, you might also consider The American Heart Association, which accepts donations to fund heart disease research.

Or, hell, do both. They're both worthy causes, in my opinion.


(Also, can we start the Give keladryb A Medal Fund pretty soon? Because at this point, I just don't know how to thank her anymore.)

Comments

[bardsmaid.livejournal.com]

I know what this is like, Eo, and that it seems to be worse at night, when you don't have other life-busyness to keep you somewhat occupied.

The whole concept of not ever being able to see another person again is mind-boggling (not to mention inexorably sad.) Some years ago I was thinking about this, and eventually it occurred to me that existence is a lot like a bus ride. You may be sitting next to someone, though you're looking out the window and they may have a headset on. When you see something you want to tell them about, you may not be able to get through; even though you're side by side, you're in different realities or states of consciousness.

And yet in spite of that, you can always reach out and give your seatmate a hug. And in the end, if you think about it, that hug is the most essential communication. Whatever 'news' you might want to share is probably fleeting and unimportant in the end, and pales in comparison to the simple fact and strength of love.

You're in my thoughts these days and nights.