The world lost a big, imperfect, loving, generous, passionate, kind, and wonderful man this weekend. He traveled widely, loved fiercely, argued strongly, and gave generously of his time and his self. He will be sorely missed.
Over the last few weeks, I've repeatedly packed a bag with work, my iPad, my phone, and a book or two, and driven to Baltimore to visit Dave. I got to the hospital, navigated through four connected buildings and countless skyways and tunnels and two banks of elevators, and sat in his room with family and friends, bag of work completely forgotten beneath my chair. I scolded myself for being unproductive, for not reading, for letting review deadlines slip by unnoticed. But it turns out, I was exactly where I needed to be: present, engaged, and participating in what turned out to be the last days we had to spend together, surrounded by tubes and beeps and photos and loved ones.
All of this is to say that I haven't read much this past week, and expect the same will be true this week. I've picked away at Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone, and have started Chamber of Secrets. Comfort re-reading at its finest, that series. I've re-read parts of Grief is a Thing with Feathers, a book I didn't love the first time through and that somehow turned itself up at the top of a stack of books by my bed when I was looking for something entirely unrelated. (I figured the universe was telling me something.) I got some great suggestions for comforting, captivating reads on Twitter: Terry Pratchett, Ms. Marvel, Mindy Kaling's second memoir (did you know Kaling had two memoirs? I didn't.), His Dark Materials. I'll be curled up beneath them this week in between catching up on those missed deadlines and running myself into the ground.
I know the world's on fire, but while it burns: Hug your loved ones a little closer. Remember to take pictures. Share memories. Be present.