The Past Lives On

Today was remarkably normal. Got up. Got the kids ready. Went back to work. Caught up on stuff. Broke down only once. Actually went home at one point. I needed some papers that were in my briefcase. Papers from my Chicago trip. Going through that hurt. And then I recovered. I went to the councillor. Seems I'm actually doin' ok. Will not be going next week. Will see how it goes the week after. Got some advice. Was told that I was functioning very well. Surprisingly well. Came home. Played. Walked the neighbour's dog (am pseudo dog sitting). Made dinner. Leftovers. Ready to do it all again tomorrow. Got some new baby pictures from one of my staff. Wish I could be in that mindframe. My dad reminded me of my great aunt -- Ita. She was one of 3 from the village that my dad grew up in who returned from a Siberian labour camp. One of those that returned went mad and was put in an asylum. Another returned as a corpse. I met Ita when I was 10. I went to Finland and remember hugging her. She was strong. I also remember that she had my picture on her wall. My dad said that he saw a lot of her in me. Just the right thing to say at the right time. My dad is pretty special. So am I.