I’m not sure what to say, really. Winter is usually a time to hibernate, reflect and be ever-so-slightly morose. Plus New York in winter is absolutely gray and disgusting, but I’m doing well. Fiddling with the house, working away (I’ve attended two writer’s workshop and met some new people), and making plans to meet CS sometime very soon. My life is a happy life.
I did get some bad news from Orvin this week but even that couldn’t bring me down. Seems my dad had a safe deposit box in Switzerland that Orvin didn’t know about until the bank called because they noticed the door of the box had been broken. They inspected the box and found someone had somehow stolen whatever was inside without cameras catching it. They’ve promised an interrogation of the staff, assuming it was an inside job.
I should be despondent. Should be driving myself mad wondering what was inside that box, but I think this journal of his has let me set all of that aside. He wasn’t well. Obsessing over that doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t make me feel anything other than dismay, so I’m trying my best to let it go and not allow it to change how I’m feeling now. I know this isn’t permanent (nothing is) but I want to ride this wave as long as possible.
I’m reframing the idea of my father. He wasn’t there for me when I needed him. But in his death he’s afforded me this amazing chance to step into a life I wasn’t sure I was capable of living. He didn’t need to pay penance, he obviously wasn’t able to care for me, or my mother, but he’s changed my life and I just feel all of those negative feelings melting away into gratitude.