All is well. I got home without excitement. Notre Dame won a wonderful, exciting game, and are undefeated. The dog has relaxed. (yes, I checked - he's still breathing) I enjoyed being with your family, and am glad to be back with my girls. The best part of the drive home was eating at Skyline in Troy. I hurried home because we were supposed to be getting the Steelers/Browns game, but we didn't. And congratulations to you - your Browns beat my Steelers. It seemed to be a close game. Charlie Batch was at quarterback. I'm happy for you that your Browns won, but sorry it was my Steelers that lost to them.
I'm working tomorrow, then going grocery shopping. I predict Jethro will sleep all the time I'm gone. He partied a bit too hard with all the kids to play with, and will need a few days to sleep it off. Jen and the guys will be moving the heavy furniture to the apartment Friday night, smaller stuff will be going over there all week. I have a car full of things your family sent her - a vaccuum cleaner, an iron, a crock pot, four sets of towels, baking dishes, laundry detergent, and a bench with storage baskets underneath. She's surprised and grateful for all the help people are giving. It feels familiar - I'm always surprised, too, at how many people are being so kind to me.
So maybe, all those years, I really did matter to people other than you. I thought you were the only one that loved me. A lot of these people love me for your sake, and I'm glad for that, and glad that caring about me eases their grief for you. And as I care about them, my grief eases a bit, too. Loving people is always the bottom line, isn't it? You did that so much better than I did. I'm trying to learn. Loving you was always easier than breathing.
Still breathing, still loving you,