Nice evening. L had a reading, which provided a decent distraction from everything that’s going on. (Work shit, largely. Nothing interesting).
Since last week (I’m sorry it’s been so long), I sorta patched things over with dad. I know he’s nowhere near done with those first spasms of grieving for you yet– you were so much the center of what he was (I see that now)– & the whole group therapy thing, in retrospect, was a BAD idea for dad.
Fuck almighty. You try to do something nice, if totally unwelcomed, intrusive, whatever, for a guy…
So what’s the plan here, moms? What do you need us to do? I’m guessing that a big part is to stop drinking, & smoking (whatever), & video-gaming (w.r.t. dad & Eric, respectively, but probably me, too) ourselves into numbness; but what SHOULD we be feeling? Where should we be going? You were always the compass, as mooreless as I felt growing up. I always could call you and at least feel better about the poor decisions I was making.
I never bought into L’s ghost stories, but I’m willing to give them a try for you, mom.
Hit me back. I miss the shit out of you.