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At some point here I intend to assemble a somewhat longer story about how things went over the final six months of my dad's life. This is mostly indirect, through my mom's messages and observations, punctuated by my own brief direct observations based on a small handful of visits and phone conversations. I think I managed to tell most of the story to [personal profile] annikusrex when I was in town for my dad's funeral. For some reason it feels important to tell this story, even though one of the hard parts of it is something my mom was first to point out: as a person's health declines, the person we once knew is not there anymore. Stories about dying aren't going to be much fun anyway.

The early parts of this week were hard, from a teaching standpoint. I was up late Sunday night finishing Monday's lecture, but went off to rowing practice anyway on Monday morning. Monday turned into a long teaching day, and then I was up early again for Tuesday's labs. Then I was up late writing Wednesday's lecture, to the point where I could feel my brain declare, "Initiating shutdown sequence" and so I had to finish writing Wednesday's lecture yesterday morning. I also had to prepare a few things for my Advanced General Biology seminar and go to a faculty meeting. So by the time the seminar was over at 2:30 pm yesterday, my brain was fried.

I managed to eke out the details for ordering an instrument for an upcoming lab exercise, then went home and was in bed by 8:30 pm. Emma generally approved of this arrangement.

I keep waking up at unusual early morning hours, my mind spinning. It spins from trying to process hard, complex emotions. It spins from trying to go over the overwhelming to-do list that includes too many items in too many different arenas; things that are long-term but that keep getting pushed off due to all the short-term demands. I eventually managed to fall back asleep for another hour or two this morning, much to Emma's delight, although at a certain point she kept trying to stick her nose in my ear.

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