26 weeks.


26 weeks. 6 months.

For no apparent reason, I'm not as torn up as I thought I would be, but I can sort of sense something like a weak tie-down strap ready to let go, if I do just the right thing.

I got replacement dishes (for the one I broke earlier) and a replacement wine glass for the one that Brad gave Penny and me for our wedding gift, that broke. I wanted it to be a pair.

Unfortunately what they sent me does NOT match, so I need to send it back and figure out what should really be sent. I'll have to call about that though.
I toasted Penny with the Grand Marnier anyway, but of course not in the wine glasses.

For the last four or so weeks, I have blacked out (narcolepsy) on Thursday anywhere between 3:30 and 5:30 pm - the time when she died - but without benefit of dreams or conversations or anything, except the one time I was sick at home and it happened while I was lying in bed, so I could actually sleep for a little longer than usual. That particular dream was very nice, but nothing I can make sense of in recalling it. I woke feeling loved. That doesn't happen when I black out at work or elsewhere because I have to struggle to wake up.

....

OK, I was fine until I started to post this. Listening to KNRK, which decided for some reason to choose exactly this moment to play Death Cab For Cutie's not-often-played "I will follow you into the dark."

"No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white / Just our hands clasped so tight / Waiting for the hint of a spark / If heaven and hell decide / That they both are satisfied / Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs / If there's no one beside you / When your soul embarks / Then I'll follow you into the dark."

I'm going to bed now.