Today is the wake and I've never been to a wake and my children have never been and I'm not so sure what I think about all this. But I also suppose I should back up a bit.

Shannon's wedding was Saturday afternoon. It was beautiful and perfect and I cried the entire day like a fool. But a happy fool. There are hundreds of pictures and when I return home I'll be sure to make an album and share. But home seems particularly far away right now.

Sunday morning my family was called and told that my grandfather only had a few hours to live. He's been sick for a long time, so I suppose this wasn't supposed to be a shock. To me, death is always a shock. A robbery that I don't believe I'll ever get used to. My whole family, minus Shannon and Bill who thankfully made the decision to still go on their honeymoon, drove or flew back to Illinois. He died about 10 minutes before any of us arrived.

So today is the wake. Tomorrow is the funeral. Someone keeps stealing my lighters. Sunday morning I have to be to O'Hare by 4:15am. It's difficult to be so happy for people you love on one day and so sad the next. But I think one of the things that is bothering me most right now is the realization (again. I seem to have this realization and then somehow forget the blasted thing over and over again.) that each time I put my heart a little bit forward, exposed and curious, I get hurt. What a teenage trajedy that sounds. But still, it's rather upsetting, a little humiliating, and mostly just like an ant bite that won't stop itching.

So I'm working on clearing my head and finding some anti-itch medication, I think. I'm tired of minor annoyances and I want too glean much more simplicity into my life.

Oh, and I'd like to move to Illinois. What do you think?

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