it's okay to go on. in fact, you're supposed to. nobody expects you to stop living when another person dies. even if it's somebody you love, especially when this somebody you love lived 89 full and vibrant years. eighty nine. imagine your life passing by three times (rewind-play, rewind-play, rewind-play) and you might still have some years leftover.

i took the day off today to take dad to the airport -- he's going to the funeral, which is saturday -- and play catch up on the things i was supposed to do this weekend but just couldn't muster the motivation to do, like writing a eulogy and doing laundry and packing stuff. also, i think, i needed the time to be alone. there is no right way to grieve, but i think this has been mine.

and now, it's another day, another week, another month. slowly the pieces are coming together and things are looking allright.

this week, i need to finish emptying the cabinets, spackle the walls, rub stains out of the carpet and stuff everything into boxes and bags. this weekend, i get to meet up with very nice people in las vegas. i'm anticipating fancy schmancy rooms, 100+ degree heat, abundant food and drink, and hardly any sleep. on sunday afternoon, i'll load up the trucks and move into my new home. by this time next week, i'll be slouching on the couch watching road rules or whatever is on TV on tuesday nights these days.

it's not so much how time flies that amazes me but how we fly with it.