At Least They're Committed

Whoa! The whites of my baby blues are blood red, my lids swollen and folding over and over and over. Watching myself from the outside, this whole grief thing is a curiosity. It made me furious last night, absolutely enraged, and I’m scrambling to channel that energy into something positive. I’m not doing such a good job yet, but I’ll keep working on it. D has been sooo good; sooo patient.

I like the idea of a tattoo honoring Robyn. Maybe at my ankle?

I’m going to up my monthly donation to CF.

Neat! There’s chocolate in my food drawer.

I cried some more this morning in front of Caitlin and Deanna and God and everyone and I felt foolish. They didn’t seem to think it was silly, though. They gave me wonderful hugs and they told me that maybe I don’t have to have it all together right now. Maybe it’s OK to be a whack job for awhile.

Sheesh. I hope so.