March 25, 2004
I wish desperately, not for the first time, that Geoffrey were here with me. Talking with him on the phone late in the evening helps for a while, but I realize I am out here without my touchstone. I'm not exactly sure when or how this happened, but there it is. I watch mom and dad reach out to each other, that brief touch of the one who shares your innermost secrets, so different from the familial embrace, from parent to child. Perhaps he could hold me together, keep me from fracturing. Instead, Madame Lafarge continues her work with me.