It's been a week since my sister-in-law died. I cried a week ago Saturday, when I got the news. Pinch-hitting at a temporary job, on the road, that turns out will become permanent, I didn't have much time, or mental energy, through last Friday.
I thought that, when I got back to what's "home" for one last week now, that maybe that would change. But, for a variety of reasons, like worried about getting the first edition of the paper out on my own on time, with it being paginated at corporate HQ (the whole process is new for me) and other things, I've been a bundle of nervous energy and other things.
Plus, there's worries about the move itself, getting ready to go on vacation not too long after that, and more.
I otherwise simply feel empty. Maybe I'm just a little emotionally fried, and friable.
That may change, soon enough. Let's hope so, and that it's for the better.
It may take a while, though. As I blogged a few weeks ago, May was the 10th anniversary of my dad's death. Brenda's death and, especially in the early years of her marriage to my brother Tim, her almost adoring take on my dad, has brought that to mind again too.
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