(no subject)

[tabaqui]

Hullo, flist.
Some of you might know that my dad has been ill for a bit. Not bad, but not feeling his best. He was in the ICU over the weekend, the latest in a series of hospital visits to try and figure out the infection that was dragging him down so hard.

I went up with the Monstrous to visit on Saturday, and early Sunday afternoon, my dad died. On one hand, i feel lucky because i was *there*. I held his hand, and the rest of my family was all around, and we talked to him and told him how much we loved him and we were *there* when he breathed out and didn't breathe back in again.

But on the other hand...my dad is dead. My lovely, loving, wonderful dad...

I'll be around, because i need something to take my mind off things, but i have no idea how chatty i'll be.

Ms. Millay says it exactly, exactly right.



I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,--but the best is lost.
The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, --
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave,
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

Dirge Without Music - Edna St. Vincent Millay