Kate

“The Staging

In the weeks after my mother's death, I sleep
Four or five hours a night, often interrupted
By dreams, and take two or three naps a day.

It seems like enough. I can survive if I keep
This sleep schedule as it has been constructed
For me. But if it seems my reflexes are delayed,

Or if I sway when I walk, or weep or do not weep,
Please don't worry. I'm not under destruction.
My grief has cast me in a lethargic cabaret.

So pay the cover charge and take your seat.
This mourning has become a relentless production
And I've got seventy-eight roles to play.”
― Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

“....Dear friends, I am often a lonely man,

Even in a room full of people who love me. Dear friends, my brain--
Unpredictable as it was--is even more unpredictable now.
But thank God for all of the ways in which we compensate.
For our deficiencies.”
― Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

“Is the air okay?" I texted.

"It hurts a little to breathe," my sister texted back. "But we're okay."

Jesus, I thought, is there a better and more succinct definition of grief than It hurts a little to breathe, but we're okay?”
― Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

“This is who I am. This is who I have always been.

I am in pain.

I am always in pain.

But I always find my way to the story. And I always find my way home.”
― Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me