Son of Jorel, kneel before the King of Parenthetical Expression!
I really have nothing to say of import to anyone, save the fact that I am still breathing (through the same disease-ridden sacks).
I left Vero having done all I could do this weekend, including but not limited to: packing up the collection of 1959-present STUFF into boxes to be shipped to Charleston and otherwise into a PODS box; cleaning of house from top to bottom; basic house and car maintenance duties; review of will and notification of the affected parties (a notable one person in total, me); 14 hours of meetings with the attorney; paying of bills and assorted financial dealings; contact of a realtor regarding future rent of the property; lunch over a bottle of JW Blue Label with the landscaper/jack-of-all-trades and longtime friend of the family discussing continued maintenance of the house and yard; and dinner with Unc Russ (one of the three most influential men of my life), whom I had not seen since my "I guess I'm not getting married tomorrow after all" dinner of 2002.
I tried to talk to a few people about things, to get my head clear and regain some focus, but all I did was end up playing phone tag with people. I suppose I wasn't meant to chat with others this week. It may have been for the better I suppose, since I do tend to be intense in the first place, and I can only imagine what I am like while grieving. As an aside I haven't seemed to scare off K yet, despite my surprisingly frank email last week. Perhaps I'm being over analytical there. Perhaps this is paralysis by analysis. I am looking forward to getting my normal life (or whatever it was really) back upon my return to GNV. It will be nice to move forward. Like Wisconsin.
So I got up before sun up today and did exactly what Pops would have done, if for no other reason than it's what he would have asked me to do, that is go for a three-mile morning walk, shower, dress, lock up the house, and leave. And so I drove from VRB to K28J (Palatka) in time to begin my workday at 7:30 as per usual.
And so begins my life after family. I am at work, I will go home, and I will figure out what to do next. I will tuck it all away neatly inside, and that will be that.
Just like Pop would have wanted.