It is unspeakable at times, so sometimes it doesn't feel real, this loss, this devastating loss. There are closets to clean out and paperwork to do and phone calls to make and condolences to accept.
How, I once asked someone, how do you go through the maelstrom? She replied, "How? Honest. Open. Willing."
Now I watch him minute by minute, phone call by phone call, condolence by condolence, being honest, being open, being willing.
And then sit, dazed and disbelieving.
And then back on his feet, errand by errand, chore by chore, push-up by push-up...
Knock down seven.
Get up eight.
The obituary of Judith Joseph
Sunday Memories: The Daughter, The Granddaughters, The Women From Her New York