More than others

When I was working on my doctorate, I was fortunate enough to find my people.  By that I mean, I was in a place with like-minded people who were doing what I was doing.  I realize this is a side-effect of graduate work.  These people, however, were much more than an intellectual cohort, a term that gets bandied around these parts a lot.  They were, as I said, my people.  Initially, they were my friends, but they became my family.  We helped each other through a lot of shit.  Some academic, some not.  I miss these people, most of whom are now finished with their graduate degrees and now live all over the country, every. single. day.  Today, I am missing them more than I do most days.  And you know who you are.

Productivity

Since dropping George and Bear off at daycare this morning, I've managed to finish a large section of a paper that has been dogging me for almost two months.  This paper is the culmination of a project I started with two colleagues over a year ago.  It has been an exciting process as it has allowed me to work in an area I find intriguing but know almost nothing about.  For that reason--at least I'm blaming it on that--I have really struggled with this essay.  In fact, writing it has been more painful than writing my dissertation.  But now, I'm almost finished.  In fact, I can now see the finish line.  That makes taking George to daycare just a little bit easier.

George

George starts daycare today.  For now, he will only be going two days a week.  While my practical side tells me that this is necessary in order for me to get some crucial work done, my not-so-practical side is sad.  I've never spent more than 4 hours away from him, and on those rare occasions, he has been in Archer's care.  I somehow managed to get him a spot in the room Bear was in, so he is with a teacher we know well.  In fact, she has already baby-sat him a few times.  Archer was hopeful I wouldn't be too upset this morning because, as he said, "We've done this twice already."  I managed to keep it together until we left the center, but then, I had a good cry. 

In memory

A lot has happened since I last posted.  On April 20th, my grandfather, for whom Wild Man is named, died, just a few months shy of his 89th birthday. While his death was not unexpected, it was still shocking.  While I'm happy he is no longer missing my grandmother, who died 2 1/2 years ago, I am sad he is gone.  He was one of the few people I firmly believed loved me unconditionally.  Our relationship was easy.  He placed no demands on me.  He was just my grandfather.  He was always happen to see me and thrilled when I called him.  I was born on his birthday, and for that reason, I think we always shared a special bond. 

He was a coal miner for more than 30 years, so I wanted to share this image of him.  I don't associate him with the mines, as I knew a very different side of him.  I still think this image captures him as I remember him best, smiling, relaxed, calm.  He was a wonderful person, and I miss him very much.