Hi. I guess it's been a while.

My sister died on June 28. This is the notice I put in my weblog:

The facts, simple and hard: after a twenty-year struggle with anorexia nervosa and related illnesses, my sister took her own life on Friday, June 28, 2002. She did not suffer when she died.

She was buried next to my father's father.

In accordance with Jewish law, we sat shiva for her, though we are Reform and don't sit for seven days. A rabbi and a young cantor with a beautiful voice came to lead the religious services each night.

The house was jammed with people, many of them my father's colleagues. One particularly dear friend flew down from New York for a night, having carved out time from his absurdly busy schedule to be with us. I can't begin to explain how touched we were by the crowds who came to show their love and support.

Now our religious responsibilities have been completed; there is only the memorial candle left, which will burn for a week. Most of our relatives and friends, having been more wonderful and helpful than we could have imagined, have left; my mother's parents will probably return to New York tomorrow.

And then there will be only three of us, trying to begin our new lives without Elizabeth. I will be here in DC for a while; I don't know yet how long. I will probably be back and forth between Boston and DC for some time. We will have to take care of the details, such as packing up and cleaning out Elizabeth's apartment, and we need to do these things as a family.

Thank you for the kind notes and e-mails; every one has been a comfort to me. I want to tell you about Elizabeth, and I will when I'm able. This entry has been hard to write. I think it will get easier as time goes on.

Now, just over a month later, I am working on regaining full control of higher brain functions, such as writing. This has proven easier to do in my blog than in any direct communication with individuals, but I'm hopeful about my chances for returning to active duty as a fully functioning human.

Since shiva ended, I have, in no particular order:

• written a lot in my weblog-journal
• come back to Boston (July 21)
• ransomed my cat from the cat kennel
• rented an apartment upstairs in the same building (LOTS of light)
• wavered between crushing grief and soaring determination
• spent several days at my cousin's lakeside retreat in Maine
• pulled an upper abdominal muscle doing a back handspring
• seen several excellent movies
• begun Empire Falls (finally)
• started to sort out plans for my future
• worn Lizie's shoes and her favorite silver ring constantly

In general, I've been busy. In the days leading up to leaving for Maine, I felt inspired and capable; now I feel tired. But I know what I need to do, which helps. Once I get moving, I'll be okay.

I'd like to say more, but right now, my heart is driving the train and my brain is in the caboose. That's usually not a good omen, and I'd rather be too quiet than too talkative. Grief is a strange and vicious beast; it hits you without warning and kicks you when you're down.

But we're a strong family, and we'll get through this somehow. The only question is: are we down to three now, or will we be forever four?