I thought there were supposed to be stages to this mourning process,
But shock, denial, and a twinge of anger are all mixed together.

Sleep is probably on the other side of a good cry,
But it's hard to cry when you don't really believe she's dead.

* * * Things more quickly when you're on the outside.
They don't call outsiders until the details are know and arrangements made.
On the inside things move slowly,
I know she died, but the how/why is a question mark
A big question mark.
As is the funeral and such

* * *
The first phone number I learned as a kid was (of course) my own.
And her phone number was the second one I memorized.
Mom and Dad were the first emergency contact on school forms and permission slips, and she was the second emergency contact.
Emergency contacts aren't supposed to die.

* * *
This is going to be a difficult funeral -
And there are kids too -
What happens to the foster baby?
And the two boys --- they've already been through too much!
Too many questions -
Too soon for answers

* * *
Big family = big support system.
But . . . I suspect that once I'm there, and it all becomes real the grief will be . . . bigger.
And other people are going to have much more
They probably aren't sleeping either.
It's too bad that we live in four different states -
If we were together, we could all not sleep and keep each other company
Isn't that the way it's supposed to work?