Mourning with benadryl

I'm covered in hives.

I'm not sure why, but I guess it's because of the funeral.

Last week, we got a terrible call at 8:30 in the morning. My husband's best friend, a young man with a young son, a wonderful friend and an amazing story teller, had died.

We are still in shock, a week later. We will continue to be for quite some time. As we will continue to grieve and cry and do all things we do when we lose someone we love, I feel my sweet Mad Scientist struggling. I try to be there but I'm not sure if I'm helping.

This has brought me screaming back, five years ago to my brother's funeral, where I was covered in hives and giving my eulogy, shaking hands and consoling friends and talking with people I didn't know about funny stories that I wasn't there for, the whole while a little voice, selfish and angry, whispering to me how all you want to do is tell everyone to shut up and slink away to sleep for 100 years.

I'm not a wise person and I don't have any answers but I am living proof that life goes on and I have found a way to be. I guess that's the only thing I have to say on this subject in life with certainty.

It's not much. But a little benadryl and a nap might help too.

Return to the homeland

The Chief is headed back from wence he came.

He's taking some time away to get his head on straight and figure out this little thing called life. We will still be us and he will come back. Yet, the journey will be hard. There is so much work to be done, I worry for him. But after much time and unhappiness, I know now that I can not help him anymore than he could have helped me when I was going through something similar. Some journey's are meant to be traveled alone. I just hope he's up for it.

Fall is here. Change. We all have to change. It's impossible not to, for me at least. Now I worry, what if I change into someone whom doesn't fit into his life? Vise versa?

Ain't that a bitch.

...you know what though... it's all gonna be ok. I know that. Deep breath. Happy face.