mostly david ephgrave

I'm trying to find a little pocket of calm in a difficult time of change. It isn't easy. I have to accept I won't be able to reason with the person at the root of it because they're in denial. So I have to come to terms with their behaviour again. I now know this was inevitable, but it's still upsetting, particularly when I consider how quickly they apparently decided to abandon me for good. I miss my dad: the other day, I had a crisis and my first thought was to ring him for advice, then I remembered a beat later this wasn't possible. Coming to terms with the fact the conversation's over is such a horrible part of grief; I get out of a friend's car at the same spot he used to drop me off at and he's on my mind; I reach the end of a pack of coffee filters I bought when he was still alive and have the morbid thought that he went first. The other night I had a dream about him, and it was only the next day that I realised it wasn't the f...

I'm at a bit of a loss over what to do next, due to the lost momentum in my work-life and the emotional difficulties of my current situation. The cancellation of Edinburgh was nigh-on unavoidable, but while going ahead was already on a knife-edge because of my dad's death, the removal of the project I'd kept at least one eye on throughout the latter stages of his illness took away the opportunity to deflect some of the pain with work; doing it was something he was very much behind too, so taking it out of the diary was an extra wrench. I also pulled out to give myself time to rebuild, following the stress of my dad's deterioration, although the month that followed offered little opportunity. I have moments when I honestly don't know how to deal with what's being thrown my way. A disagreement over the principle behind what my dad didn't know when he wrote his Will looks set to drone on indefinitely, with the other party unwilling to acknowledge event...