r00kers

A long interval, another tragedy. I have to get up tomorrow and go on. I have 10 eager students awaiting my instruction in a topic I know well. It will be difficult, difficult to focus, difficult to sprinkle just the right amount of humor in, difficult to read their faces to see if I am getting through. It is likely to be the most mechanical performance of my teaching career, yet this is nothing compared to what my friends must endure tomorrow and each day succeeding. I can't imagine what it must be like to commit my child to the cold, cold ground, to not see them unfold into adulthood, to not continue to have them in my life, yet this is what my friends must do. We are often urged to find the 'good' in things, even tragedy, yet at this point I feel that the well of good from this is the emptiest void I can imagine.