Hard things are hard.

In a few minutes, I have to get dressed for church. The beans are done, I hope they are OK. It's going to be weird going to lunch - normally a happy time - like this, with a fresh loss hanging over all of us.

I slept OK last night despite worrying that I was going to go to bed and lie there and THINK about it, and then think about all the other things that come in the wake of learning about a death:

- this is going to happen in your own family at some point and you will have to be arranging a way to get home just like the brother is now

- if you have to elder or make announcements, can you do it without crying?

- I hate having to "recalibrate" my life to not have someone who was in it. I think of how after Dorothy died, the first AAUW meeting, I found myself thinking "I should call Dorothy to see if she wants a ride to it" and then realizing "Oh....no" and being sad all over again. It's harder when it's someone you "expected" to be there, rather than someone who had been unwell for a long time.

- and my big, selfish fear: what if everyone you care about and who cares about you dies or moves away, and you're all alone? This is what happens when you let yourself get fond of people. I have a hard time making in-person friends and so "just find new people to care about" is not easy for me.

- And yeah, also selfishly: holy cow, if I were to die suddenly? Nothing in my life is in order. I have a very minimal will; my important paperwork (do your heirs need your social security card and the like?) is kind of scattered....and my house is a mess. (I hate the new concept being foisted on us from Scandinavia of "death cleaning" even as I can see its value: if I were to get hit by a bus, what would people do with all my books and all my fabric and all my My Little Ponies? But at the same time, I cannot see myself living in an empty white box with almost no possessions, waiting for my own death....)

I did have one dream where it turned out it was an error, and it was his *father,* whom I did not know, but who had the same name, who had died, but on waking I knew that couldn't be possible as his father has been dead for years :(

(Edited to add: I read the e-mail again this morning, to be "sure." Yeah, there's no doubt. Also, it's possible my coming weekend plans change yet again if that's when the funeral is. Dammit, adulthood! Stop doing this.)

I have church today, and the lunch after church, and Wesley board meeting, but maybe after I get home (around 5-ish) from the meeting, I might just go to bed. I don't know. I slept maybe 9 hours, maybe a little less, but I am still tired this morning. Part of it is just being sad, part of it is that yesterday's activities were just such a nightmare. Part of it is knowing I have a regular full week ahead of me to get through.

I tried watching a bit of news but I find the idiocy of the larger world wears on me even more than it normally does right now (also the Twitter Commentariat. I have supportive friends on there but all the snark and the like that always gets retweeted gets me down a lot, and I admit in the coming days I may be muting either retweets some people do, or just muting a few people.) I find I have less tolerance for that sort of silliness when things in my immediate life are hard.

I suppose ironically, being busy right now is maybe a good thing, so I don't sit and ruminate over stuff. But I'm also tired and my house is a mess and it just does kind of feel like everything is falling apart again.

Maybe between church and board meeting I try to clean house a little, I don't know. Maybe some kind of activity that doesn't require a lot of thought but that has clear results will help.

****

Edited to add, about 1 pm:

Yes, I think the old saying about "sorrow shared is sorrow divided" is true. There were lots of hugs and tears but also lots of comments about "I am a better person for having known him" and the like. One woman I know said something like, "He helped me see that it was OK to be 'me,'" and I'm not entirely sure what she meant by that (there are a couple different things it could mean, but I don't want to pry).

But yeah. He was always so upbeat and encouraging and funny and was the kind of person who was good at jollying someone out of a slightly bad mood (and yes, at times it can be annoying for someone to do that but I think he was sensitive enough to know when it was OK and when it was not)

One of Steve's friends - perhaps his best friend, I don't know - came up and hugged me. I thought Mike was maybe just looking for comfort (And I said "I'm so sorry" because even though I was close to Steve, I know Mike was even closer)

And then Mike said, a little tearfully: "From now on, I'll be the person who hugs you every week, if that's okay." (Steve was the guy who was always hugging people. No, it was never grabby or creepy: he was the kind of person I welcomed hugs from, and Mike is the same way). And I kind of cry-laughed and admitted that a selfish thought I had had late last night was, "Who will hug me now that Steve is gone?"

Perhaps Mike - who I think has a similar sense of humor and fun, but is more quiet and restrained - may come out of his shell a little bit now, maybe he feels he can step in and fill a little bit of the supportive role Steve had, I don't know. 

And yeah, I had to make the announcements and serve at the table. Early in the day yesterday, before I got the news, I was kind of cranky about contemplating it, like "Just another thing expected of me" but my attitude changed after getting the news....my main worry was to be able to get through without crying too much.

I don't really remember what I said, I did cry a little but I don't think it was an "ugly cry." (And anyway: with that kind of a loss, I think it's really really hard, and you'd have to be far colder than I am, to be able to get through announcing their death without tearing up. It's different when it's someone who's been sick for a long time and the death is almost a release; in this case it was someone who had seemed healthy* going all of a sudden.) I did make some comment about how we were sad, but we should remember Steve would want us to be happy (and Mike, sitting in the choir, said "Amen!" and that made me feel like maybe I said the right thing).

I did make it through the prayer at the table OK but I don't think anyone would have faulted me if I had cried.

(*No discussion of it, but I would not be too surprised to learn "heart attack")

Arrangements are still pending but I have already made peace with the fact that if the funeral is on Saturday, I either go to Whitesboro Friday after class, or (sigh) just "float" the trip for yet another week. (I'd much, much rather have Steve alive and well, but you don't get what you want)