a quiet snow

No reading news of consequence.

Tom died today. None of you knew him, I don't think, except my family. He was the son-in-law of our very close family friends, father of two girls younger than me, and my dentist from around age 12 onward. His kids and I used to play together, but it was more that he was sort of family because his in-laws are very much like family. It was cancer that came on fast, he died at home.

It was not unexpected, but it still makes me cry. He was so young, and so nice. A good man, energetic and straightforward, and not at all a corny dentist. I came home from the library after my mom called to tell me; I knew the news from her hello. It has made us all sad, and we've had the sense of needing to shelter our family friends somehow, I think.

It has started snowing harder since I got home. It's pretty watching it fall against the lights of the windows. I wish I was home, close to the woods, in the quiet.

I'm weirded out by my compulsion to write about this. I don't really want to talk to anyone about it, except Kolz and home folks. I guess part of me doesn't want it to pass unnoticed, this life, but then another part of me wants to write it down for where I am right now, tonight. To document that I am not stressed, not stricken or immobile, but sad. Not interested in books.

The folks across the way have gone to bed and turned out their lights. Time to turn mine on and get ready to sleep.