My boss, John Homans, died of cancer in July, two and a half weeks after telling me about his diagnosis. I am still not okay about it. At times I seem okay. For as many as 48 consecutive hours I even feel okay. And then the piece of egg will fall off the egg-and-toast bite I’d been aiming at my mouth and suddenly I am crying over my breakfast, huge heaving sobs, and realizing that the okayness I’d been clinging to is not really for me yet.
Not okay
Not okay
Not okay
My boss, John Homans, died of cancer in July, two and a half weeks after telling me about his diagnosis. I am still not okay about it. At times I seem okay. For as many as 48 consecutive hours I even feel okay. And then the piece of egg will fall off the egg-and-toast bite I’d been aiming at my mouth and suddenly I am crying over my breakfast, huge heaving sobs, and realizing that the okayness I’d been clinging to is not really for me yet.