Reflection

It's been over two months since Gralon passed away. I have kept pretty busy with work, softball, family, friends and romance. I'm afraid all keeping busy has done is bury what I've been trying to avoid this whole time, which is dealing with the fact that Gralon is dead. I have listened to everyone talk...avoiding the subject as much as possible. Even I am careful to not bring it up in all situations. One of my co-workers walked up to my desk while I was looking at pictures of Gray last week and I quickly minimized it, trying to hide what I was doing. I have watched several movies and multiple times I am reminded of seeing him on the emergency room bed....his face pale, i remember how rosy his cheeks always were but that color is all gone. I remember the dried blood on his face and wondering to my self what he was doing in his last few moments. How scared he had to have been in that ambulance...crying. I can't help but think about it....I wish I wouldn't but I do.

It's late...11:20 PM. I finished watching a DVD by Sigur Ros and the whole time I just thought about everything that's happened....I haven't really turned to alcohol except for one day, the Thursday after Gralon died. I lost it that day and I refused to take part in anything. My dad came over because I wasn't answering my phone. I was drunk, straight whiskey. He was pissed and scared, understandably. Alcoholism is no stranger to his side of the family. I just was tired of feeling anything...and no longer wished to feel that day. Tonight I had the same feeling again and it was a bit scary. I didn't drink anything but I wanted to. I immediately thought about work and that is my main reason for not doing it, I have to go to work. I have to keep making money in order to live. I have to..I have to...I have to. There is no choice there, but the temptation alone is what scares me. The fact that drinking came to my mind. Bad bad. Just a bad couple of days I think.

I think of my family and how they are dealing with it....it has to be easier than this. I recall the sermon from Sunday "in times of trial we want to crawl in a hole away from everyone and tend our wounds on our own, but that is now how God intended for things to happen." I agree...but it's 11:20PM, I don't feel like calling someone to whine about "how depressed i am". How horrible. All I can think of is how much harder my sister has it....how much harder my dad had it coming back from Vietnam. I feel I have no excuse for feeling this way, so I bury it. Bury it deep. Stitch it up. I'll have eternity to reckon with it, but here on Earth there are many more that have it much worse than I. I'll just get out the old sewing kit..I've had good practice with it in the past....