I dreamed something this morning about having something to tell DX and being sad that I couldn't.

Oof

I had a dream a couple of nights ago where I was travelling on a train, and my bag got stolen. Even though my bag was gone, the thief was kind enough to leave behind the rolls of film I had in the bag. I guess that's my subconscious's attempt at poignancy.

David, I hope it's okay that I used your photo in my tribute post on FB. I can remove it if you'd rather I didn't.

It just struck me so hard last night as I was meditating and managing my weeping headache, how poetic it felt to me that Jacqueline passed out of this reality under a blue moon. One we will not see again for 37 years. Which will be long after I, myself, am gone.

The Universe is cruel in its neutrality. But whatever grace notes we can find are made richer by viewing life the way she did.

Some of us know that Karl is both, but wouldn't change very much about either. He is the only scary lurker I'd want in my dark alley(No, wait, not *mine*, like in my neighborhood or something, right?)

Can't add much to this discussion, but I will probably play "Body of An American" tonight.

Finding myself thinking of things that seem inappropriate(Shock, right?) Like how David Simon saw so many bodies with an 'so this is how this goes," look on their faces, "as if they'd worked out a difficult math problem."

When I was in college, and my life stuff(just ordinary things, mostly...frustration tends to make me well up, maybe more than sadness) got hard, occasionally it helped that there was a mortuary down the street. Sometimes I felt that people were nice under false pretenses, but I accepted it.

I haven't much to say. I've just been sitting, and reading and loving this far flung community and absorbing the knowledge that Jacqueline is no longer among us, feeling a bit of the absence David and Matilda and Sunny are dealing with, listening to the stories and memories we're all sharing.

I always find it impossible to cry in the moment of death, in the aftermath of death. It's weeks, even months later when the reality penetrates and I lose it. So I'm not crying, but I am sitting with grief, and it's good to be able to do that here, with you all.

David, you and Matilda have all my love.

Arthur update: We're going home today, without pulse-ox monitor (yay) and as a normal, if noisy, baby. I am all packed up except for the frozen breastmilk I pumped for the overnight I let his dad cover (turned out to be a Really Good Idea as he had to fast from 3 AM for surgery and Dad is much better at coping with that kind of thing, since the equipment and biological impulse to FIX IT is not physically installed)

Just waiting on paperwork and for him to wake up for his final nurse exam.

This is the space where my "comfort in" sentiments would go if I were not emotionally tapped the fuck out.

Yay going home but you definitely deserve a lot of rest that you probably won’t get! Fresh baby is exhausting anyway but you’ve had a ride for sure! Hope things improve and settle down from here Debet! And that people are able to help you out, friends and neighbors?

Yay for Arthur going home!