Saturday Aug 30,
I don't think I'm enjoying pain. I don't think I'm a masochist. It certainly is weird though. It hurts but I want to do it. Well, I sort of want to and sort of don't want to. I'm trying to describe a range of things which summon grief. For example: singing the hymn: "Marching to Zion". I just sang that yesterday and immediately I could remember singing it with Ruth. And because it reminded me so vividly of Ruth (I could picture clearly her standing beside me. I could hear her voice.) it was precious and wonderful and there was a heart-felt joy but equally, it hurt it was tragic, it was grief and I wanted to stop. Weird.
