Seems a year ago I went to NY to see Pop, watch him die, praise him and bury him. It’s been all of 2 weeks.
After a couple of days at work, we kept our promise w/Disney. Too-long drives, in-laws, everyone else’s children, so much junk food, nice hotel , good pool, bus rides, undoable ride lines and a really good Muppets movie.
Now we drive back in an hour. Gone from the surreal to the horrid to the unreal of family life in Disney.
The plan worked: the exhaustion and distraction of Disney and 10-hour sleeps has made me … rested and still dazed.
I’m still incredibly sad, but for me and not dad. Which is good, because I’ll get better. Pop couldn’t. And he’s no longer alone.
Turn the AC on high; we’re going home.
