Those Who Belong To Us

My father died suddenly when I was seventeen. Protective and adoring but totally unspoiling, he was my first great love. I have an image in my mind of sitting alone in the funeral car, waiting for everyone to come out of the little country church and drive to the town’s dusty cemetery whose small number of inhabitants are mostly a list of relatives. Sitting there motionless, I had such a bottomless emptiness inside me that crying seemed irrelevant. Some things are too sad for tears. Continue reading “Those Who Belong To Us”