April

It feels almost like a lost month, an odd suspension of animation—ever since the fire, which was really the end of March, and then the funeral, which I had every intention of writing about as Loss (3), even as I was writing Loss (1) and Loss (2). But then, that night before the funeral, in a hotel room hours from home, my throat swelled, and I became sick with something that knocked me out for two weeks, something I am still recovering from. I was sick in a sleep-all-day way at first, and went to see a doctor twice, the first week to be sure it wasn’t strep, the second week because of the laryngitis.

I had thought I was getting better. I attended the benefit event for the owners of our recently-lost-to-fire country store, fully participating in that incredible outpouring of community support. A couple of hours afterward, my voice disappeared for nearly five days.

I don’t feel like writing about the funeral.

Still, I came to Portland for the week with Tim, refusing to be left behind. We go to bed early and get up late (for us). My voice got tired after a couple of long phone conversations, after drinks with Len Monday night and lunch with Suzanne Tuesday. I kept quiet yesterday.

I am not getting enough done. I can’t seem to concentrate. I wander from shop to shop in search of a gift but am coming up short. I try on some clothes, but as usual, meh. I get a haircut that looks great til I wash my hair—now I have to get it fixed.

I have yet to take a long walk on the prom by the water. It’s still cold. Maybe today.