saturday afternoon i was sitting in the last pew in a darkened church and feeling increasingly distraught. bob reeder had offered to accompany me to charles vandersee's memorial service, an offer i was surprised by and very grateful for, especially when the girl who was going with me could not attend at the last minute. i sat very stiffly and scanned the back of heads for the nohrnbergs - we had thought we would sit with them if we could, though by the time we came in almost everyone was seated and we shuffled where we could. afterwards, standing awkwardly in the foyer, not wishing to stay for the reception - a word i took some offence at - and especially not wanting to have to greet people - but feeling as if to go immediately would be too abrupt - is there no more to be done? laertes on ophelia's burial. - is this all? why can't i feel it's enough, why can't i feel it was real - it was just words and words - and not any that i could understand or take comfort in. we were waiting for the nohrnbergs to come out - a wise word from him, a gentle word from her - that would have helped, but they didn't come out - bob guesses they were still in new york for the wedding. there weren't many students that i could see - mike lundblad and bill albertini were two grad students i picked out - but there were no others that i recognised - he didn't teach graduate classes - and i didn't see many undergrads - despite so many emails sent by both the dean of echols and the english department - which disappointed me. more of us should be there. when we were coming we were walking along alderman road the day was bright and it was not over-cold we talked about the lighthearted inconsequentials and laughed at times - but as we got nearer my heart was sinking and sinking. approaching the church i saw rita felski cross the road ahead of us with someone i didn't recognise - and many others - black suited and purposeful - we became sober. when we first pushed at the door i was hesitant and fearful and though inside i saw a face or two i recognised i was in too much confusion to greet. the solemnity and darkness and organ music made strange feelings well in my heart and when i looked at the order of service in my hands i suddenly thought - i don't know what to do - these rituals will keep me from feeling - and it was like that. i felt excluded by the service and then i thought and thought of him and out of helplessness and boredom and loneliness and exclusion and missing i began to cry again. where’s he in all this? bob said that what professor tucker had read was one of his favourite verses and what it meant and why it was comforting and affirming. if i could take comfort in it - but my imagination failed me there. at the door a teacher i know came to me and asked if i was alright - yes, i nodded, dry-eyed again. how can i explain it i am not - i feel bloody awful - and coming had made it worse - but there's nothing to say - i didn't want to talk about it, not there. i learnt a lot about him, she said, i didn’t know he did all these things, did you? – and i instantly felt chagrin and maybe also anger - i wanted her to go away, and to stop talking about him as if we were coming out of a lecture about some writer - and extricated myself quickly. bob said afterwards it wasn't badly meant, but it hurt me - as if here they were all come to see the circus, as if we were at some kind of hobnobbing gathering. when we got outside it was unaccustomedly bright and i was talking faster and louder than is my wont trying to explain to bob, that on the one hand, i was alienated by the service, and at the same time i couldn't take comfort from what everyone else could. just a barbarian and heathen in the midst of civilised god-fearing folk. i can't feel included in your rituals - they shroud him further - who's to give comfort to - and who's to give me comfort? in the foyer wanting to leave and forlorn and hurt i saw elizabeth simpson, who had lived next to me first year, coming out by herself. i saw her on the first day i got back, on the stairs in clemons library where i was going to get night watch - and we exchanged news. i congratulated her on having found a job, and she complimented me on my coat. here we are again and how different this second meeting. she saw me at the same time and came towards me - there was an awful look on her face - i felt that i understood suddenly - i know, i loved him too - and she broke into sobs and as I put my arms ard her i suddenly felt relieved – suddenly there was someone who was crying aloud for him - something outside of all the platitudes and reasonable remarks and the words that didn't mean much for me - she just cried - and then she said, i think i’ll go now, and left very quickly. i didn't need to stay anymore. bob and i left too and emerging i saw her crossing the road ahead of us still crying. i was very cold again.