Getting up from Shiva

I "got up" today from Shiva. That is, the official period of mourning ended. It's called "getting up" because the mourner sits at the shiva, usually on a low chair or stool, to mirror, or to drive home, how low you feel.

Shiva, which lasts seven days, including the day of burial, is both long and short. It's short because the day of burial counts as one day, even though it is really half a day since the burial doesn't usually conclude until mid day--around noon in my case--and the sabbath that comes during the seven day period isn't an official day of mourning, and then the last day--today--concludes after the morning services. It's also short because the time passes quickly. But it's long because you are doing the same thing every day: sitting in your low chair and talking to people who come in to offer condolences. And so by yesterday I was ready for it to end.

It ended today, the shiva and post-shiva time, delineated by a walk outside. After the walk, I came back to my home, took off my ripped shirt, had breakfast, sat down at my computer, and began working on the many tasks that lay before me. The day when my father died, I lost the only parent I still had. But today is the day that my post-parent life--my actual lived reality--began. This is what I "got up" to today.