battered, worn, tattered--and torn
Tuesday, August 10,

That�ll teach me. Just when my self-pity level has gotten to the �I can�t get any lower� stage, a call from my parents teaches me otherwise. Nothing like the one-two punch of hearing a beloved family member has died, coupled with a generous dose of guilt because I can�t make the funeral.

What do you do when someone dies on the eve of a trip you have been planning for years? Spouse has been working on getting this reunion to happen since 2000. The events of 2001 derailed it for a while, but now it�s on, and this weekend. We leave tomorrow morning. This means so very much to him. What am I supposed to say? �Nope-sorry. Can�t go. Iowa instead. Auntie�s funeral, niece�s birthday. Deal with it.�?

I can�t do that. Sometimes I wish in my heart that I could be a little bit more like that. Think of myself first. But I don�t. Example: Last year, it was going to be my reunion. The theatre department reunion with my old instructor and all his other students. I looked forward to it for months. And then Spouse�s aunt died. The funeral was reunion day. And I went to the funeral, of course. Now the situation is reversed. His reunion, my aunt. But the outcome will be reversed as well, and I won�t be going to the funeral. I�ll be going to ND, for him.

You know, this love thing isn�t easy. Not my side of it, anyway. You know. The side with all the sacrifice.

I got Auntie�s obit links and sent them to Dad, and I will send a donation to her memorial fund (in support of the American Cancer Society, the local Presbyterian church--my childhood church--and the local food pantry.) instead of flowers. She was a food pantry worker and supporter, like Spouse and me, so it feels right to do that.

I have so much to do tonight, and so little time to get it done, that I�m going to wrap this up and say so long till next week. If I can get web access at our hotel, I will update before, but if not, I won�t be back till Monday or Tuesday.