May 16: One Week Later

It's a strange place to be.  One week after my brother's death.  Life is supposed to be returning to normal.  Back to work.  Back to blogging.  Back to church.  No more tears.  No more sadness.

I was at my parents' house this evening.  I watched my father get into an argument with one of my sisters over the stupidest thing in the world.  It got really heated and lasted for a few minutes.  It ended with my father storming downstairs.  I know he wasn't really pissed about the yarn sitting on the dining room table.  He's pissed because he's just lost his 58-year-old son.

It's a strange place.  An angry place.  A sad and lonely place.

Saint Marty is in some stage of grief.  Maybe the keep-your-hands-off-my-fucking-chocolate stage.

I'm in here somewhere