Healing, Apparently

For months I've had the mourning poem I wrote for Lohain (There should have been keening, and a burning boat. . . ) on the wall of my cubicle at work. A few minutes ago I looked at it and realized that I have moved past the rawness of grief it expresses.

I've taken the poem down and tucked it between the pages of my journal.

There are still reminders of Lohain here, but they are reminders of him, not his death.

Child Domesticity

I got a call a little while ago from my mom. Wolfling is going to cook one of my/our favorite meals this evening, to be ready when I get home from work.

Gotta love my kid!