Sackcloth and ashes

I slept most of the day yesterday. The day began with a stomach thing, which was not much of a surprise considering the food consumed recently. I missed my volunteer time. CFS depends on its volunteers. I feel awful letting V and the others down.

* * *

My friend TW and his family decided to end all treatments except morphine and remodulin. I hope peace comes to him and his family.

* * *

Reflecting on your day from afar as I do, I am ever so grateful to your brothers for allowing me to participate in my small but symbolic ways. Ways that held meaning for you and us.

Your sibs present so much mystery. I know zip about one. Your family holds everything close to their vest. Though I understand privacy, especially with strangers, your family seems extra careful. Trust comes with time and actions. No worries. Om.

I find myself in a defensive fog since your death. (I have never been one to use euphemisms.) I am not proud of the way I have reacted, but wysiwyg. We all cope in our own way.

How I managed to earn your trust so quickly puzzles me. I am glad I was there for you. Like with any relationship, I gained something as well.

Some things become more clear now that you are gone. Divorces and such. How stories change to fit the present situation. Not sure if the speaker actually believes or hopes to fool. Does it matter? No, not really. In the end, you were willing to forgive and move on. I will try to follow your example.

Om. Om. Om.

Sackcloth and ashes.

Did you want the life of a star?

Later.