Every Day A Question Mark.

I Tried To Take Solace In Holiday, Our Dog. I Missed Him In A Way I Hadn't Yet Let Myself Miss My Mother And Father, My Sister And Brother. That Way Of Missing Would Mean That I Had Accepted That I Would Never Be With Them Again; It Might Sound Silly But I Didn't Believe It, Would Not Believe It.

The Shadow Of Years Was Not As Big On His Small Body. He Knew I Was Away . But When People Left They Always Came Back.

The Sun Came Through The Branches Of The Tree Above Her, And Ruth Looked Up Past Them. "i Think She Listens," She Said, Too Softly To Be Heard.

I Mean, If I Went Into My Closet, I Could Find A Previous Draft And Try To Figure That Out, But It Takes A Long Time For Me To Find The Voice To Tell A Story In. I Was Working From Other Points Of View For A Couple Years There.

These Were The Lovely Bones That Had Grown Around My Absence: The Connections-sometimes Tenuous, Sometimes Made At Great Cost, But Often Magnificent-that Happened After I Was Gone. And I Began To See Things In A Way That Let Me Hold The World Without Me In It. The Events That My Death Wrought Were Merely The Bones Of A Body That Would Become Whole At Some Unpredictable Time In The Future. The Price Of What I Came To See As This Miraculous Body Had Been My Life.