How It Is

I have not had much to say recently. Partly, at least, I still feel as though I am in mourning over Ava Marie. Ordinary blogging does not seem to be terribly appropriate to me at the moment, or at least I don't feel up to it.

It may seem rather strange to mourn with people whom I have never met, but I have met them in a way. I have met them through the written word, and there is little more powerful than that.

Life, certainly, must go on: for those of us outside the immediate circle, sooner rather than later. For Karla, Mark, and the grands, it will be much more difficult. That's an understatement, for I can only begin to fathom how bereft and sad they must feel.

However, I sense that I have glimpsed, through Karla's writings, enough of this family to believe that beyond this almost fathomless grief, they will be able to see the sun and smile again. It will take time, maybe a long time. They will never get over this tragedy, but they will get past it in some way at some point in time, for I sense that there is strength and resiliency there.

Because life must go on, I will blog normally again, but whether that will be tomorrow or next week, I am not sure. And, although she can not even begin to contemplate it now, I am hoping that Karla will blog again too — someday. I have said that the written word is powerful, and, when the time is right, it may be one way for Karla to begin to take tiny forward steps although there will always be many wistful backward glances.