Pulling into the station

July 13, 2004

I had a very long, hard weekend. Earlier last week, my friend's mom took a serious turn for the worse. She had been fighting cancer for about a year. I spent the weekend down in Fremont with her and tried to help as much as I could. On Sunday afternoon, hospice sent over a hospital bed and some other things to help make her mom more comfertable. I said goodbye and hopped in my car and drove home. About 35, 40 minutes after I arrived home, my mom called me. I threw another change of clothes into my bag and turned back around. She'd died sometime shortly before my mom called. I got there before the transport folks arrived to take her away. (I also made the 90 minute drive in 59 minutes. Sue me, I was in a hurry.)

But because no family is without it's share of drama, we spent most of Sunday night and yesterday trying to ward off the evil bastards that are her relatives. My mom even got down and dirty with one of her cousins. It's just bad, you know, when you start looking at your own family and wondering, are YOU going to turn evil on me when it's my turn?

But me, I am still avoiding the situation in my heart. That way I won't have to be sad yet. I don't know if you can call it denial because I know she's gone. But I won't allow myself to think about it.

I'm glad my next session is on Monday. I've smoked half a pack over the weekend. That's the stress that I'm under, folks.

Cause for stress stopped here at 4:44 p.m.

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