The events of the past five weeks have impacted me more than I realized at the time.
On April 27th we got the first call about Dennis. We packed and drove to PA. We started planning our August vacation trip.
On May 28th we picked up the grandkids and went to get kittens. We delighted in them (and still do) and had a naming contest.
On June 11th we packed and drove to PA. We sat on the porch and I thought about how much we love the house, this place.
We talked about how depressed the economy is in western PA, and what can be done.
We discussed the manufacturing crisis in the United States, and the hopelessness of blue collar workers. We drove through town and loved everything we saw, even as we saw it slipping away.
We drove through the cemeteries and touched the gravestones of our loved ones. We said silent thanks to those wonderful people who maintained their graves and remembered them always.
On June 13th we drove from PA to the beach.
Once we got home, I realized that I have not adjusted, that I am still in the middle of all the turmoil. That I am questioning everything, and missing Denny. That I love every single moment of this wonderful blessed life, and at the same time I don't understand it at all.