Bridge Over Troubled Water

It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things. -Lemony Snicket

Things are so crazy right now, I have no idea what to do with myself. After all the things that have happened this week, and all the memories being stirred up, I'm totally lost. This time of year sucks anyway, but I got totally blindsided with this death. I never really expect to be so moved by this type of thing. It sounds cold, but it's true. I mean, losing someone is hard, and I would never be disrespectful of someone's grief, but I'm always blindsided by how much I feel for other people. Maybe it's because I'm usually preoccupied with ignoring my own emotions and only paying attention to what goes on in terms of logic in my head, that others' grief catches me off guard and I end up falling in head first. Whatever the reason, here it is: I am so unbelievably sad for this family.
I can almost feel myself getting stuck here, unable to pull myself out of this hole I've dug myself into. Sadness is so debilitating. But then I remember: I have all of you to get me through this. Whether by stopping by with some surprise slushies and good conversation, or making me laugh, you guys are always there. So I roll my eyes at my own stupidity--thinking I'm alone in all this--and smile.
I love you guys so much.
Love,
Honest Abe