Today I got to see some of George’s family. His sister and her family were here visiting George’s mom. Jenny and I swung over to say hi before they left town again, and to see the new addition. George’s mom and step-dad had a beautiful Sycamore planted in his honor on their terrace. (Pictured above)
Today, I’m surrounded by people I love, but am still lonely. I’m already getting those “suck it up” looks, and I just hate people. Missing George is hard. Every week I miss seeing him at work. I miss seeing him for our weekly game night. It just keeps happening. I’m not crushed anymore. I’m mostly
Last night was a blast. We had fun eating too much pizza, eating ice cream, and playing games with the kids. After they had adjourned to enjoy the last week of summer break, we busted out Cards Against Humanity. We all dreaded playing without George. It was one of our favorite games to play together. Preferably
This last weekend was a blur to me. Jenny and I hosted the wake, and had dozens of folks show. We played games to honor George, and had pizza, wings, cola, and other noms. I met his brothers, his sister, and his father. George was greatly loved, and people loved celebrating his life by playing
I’ve long since learned, and try to live by a simple rule. When in pain, grief, fear, or frailty, there are only a couple of rules for being a good human. I call it the Dumping Circles Rule. When someone has died, for example, there is an order of who gets to dump sadness on whom.
I thought it was supposed to feel like it isn’t real. I hear people say that it doesn’t feel real to them when someone dies… I don’t get it. I wake up several times a night, with no idea why I’m upset. The it hits me: George is dead. I return to restless sleep. I
I don’ t even know where to begin. At therapy yesterday, I received a message from George‘s mother, asking that I swing by and check on him. This isn’t an unusual request. He’s long since accepted that I would just show up sometimes to make sure he was okay. My therapist’s office was about, I dunno,