Loss

I had to vanish on short notice to the wilds of suburban New York for the weekend. A family friend died last weekend, and his memorial was yesterday. Our families are very close; his parents are very good friends of my parents, and my relationship to him was akin to how most people seem to describe their relationships with cousins who live within a reasonable drive: we saw each other semi-regularly [4-6 times a year?] for family-type events but didn't have much of a direct relationship outside of that.

Now he's dead, and I'm . . . well, I'm kind of sad. Except it seems like most of the sadness is a reflection of my mother's grief and of his family's grief, rather than anything direct. This seems to be fairly typical of my reaction to death, or to loss, or things like that; I don't seem to have much of a strong emotional reaction to these things. It's kind of odd; sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. I mean, up through about 16, all sorts of things made me cry, but somewhere in the 16-18 range something shifted and now almost nothing, no matter how strong an emotional reaction you'd expect, does. Except certain kinds of frustration, and certain kinds of immense beauty.

Also, I realized yesterday that this is the first time anybody I know personally of my own generation has died. That's . . . weird. It's not supposed to happen, certainly not yet. Of course I know it does, sometimes, but . . . yeah.

Dunno; maybe I'm still processing. Anyway, if I vanished unexpectedly on anybody this weekend, or if I get kind of distant in the next few days, that's probably why.