How many days 'til Eric's home?

Eric's trip to Florida to sit shiva with his family after his father's death has spurred lots o' workplace conversations about family deaths, funerals, and cultural traditions.

Today at work I told the story of what happened the day I learned my father had died. I can't remember which one of my siblings called me, or what was said. Eric and I were having friends over for dinner. They were having dinner with us, and then leaving their toddler with us for the evening while they attended a dance concert at Zellerbach Hall.

I answered the phone, and was told that my father was dead. I was shocked. I hung up and told Eric and our guests what had happened.

Our guests said how sorry they were -- the woman asked me to tell her about my father, but I was really too stunned to speak -- I think they finished dinner, and I went upstairs and cried. And then they went to the concert and left their child in our care!

It all happened so quickly. They were gone before we could think to ask them to excuse us from babysitting duties for the evening.

There was much hilarity when I told the story today. Consensus was that the couple REALLY needed a night out!

I was very, very, sad when my father died. I hadn't expected it, and I cried every day for a long time. Still... I had already grieved the loss of a much-loved brother-in-law, my mother, and my brother... so I understood that however sad I felt, my grief would not be endless.

Plus, I was much happier in general than I'd been when I'd lost other members of my family. I was a happier person with a good life -- largely because Eric had loved & loved & loved & loved & loved me.

I've been staring at that last sentence for a full minute. It's so true!

And I've loved Eric back, too... I've loved him in the very best way I can, from where ever I've been, for a long, long, time.