I was watching Cosine sleep yesterday evening.
Which beats the hell out of watching her wander around running into walls and tripping over items on the floor. She paces often, never seemingly able to find a comfortable place to settle down. We try to help her. She enjoys massages. We stroke her and speak in soothing tones. But we're not offering what she needs. Because still she paces. Until she finally settles down. And sleeps. At times I watch her. Like last night.
I was thinking about her brother, Detail, who died this past summer. I was thinking about Detail's obituary. I was thinking about how I began writing his obituary months before he actually died. I was thinking how the process of saying goodbye began with me sitting down to write that obituary. And how the simple act of writing about him somehow made it easier to say goodbye.
I'm overdue to start writing hers, I think.
Because writing it will help.
I know it for sure.