Is It Only Just Sunday?

This has been a week of weird and wonderful emotions.

It seems like it can hardly be less that 7 days since we took Hillary to the city. Less than 2 weeks since we saw Johanna off on the plane.It seems quite unbelievable that last Sunday we were still on holiday time, walking over to the little Anglican Church on the corner.

Ten days of dealing with a far-away home-sick girl.

Five days of dealing with a far-enough-away sick-sick girl.

As many days sorting out emotions for the remnant of the family.

And at the end of the day... we're still tired.

Still a little raw.

I'm holding my own, for the most part, although I am a little moody... found myself standing in the living room, holding a card from Micah's most recent birthday... "Love Nana & Papa"... and the wave of sorrow washed over again... and a good friend from Church who's been fighting cancer passed away tonight... he's like a father, and I know his funeral this week will be a hard one... it's too close, too real, so much another stupid, unnecessary death...

It's been a long, long week, and this is the eve of another long, long week.

At least school supplies have been bought, and the boy has his driver's license so I don't have to be the chauffeur if I don't want to.

And again we're up past midnight.

Oh, well. For now the floor's been mopped and the carpets have been vacuumed and the wood has been polished and the dishes have been washed, and the laundry's been put away and the linen cupboard's been sorted out, and the University care package has been assembled and the cookies have been baked...

 As Scarlett O'Hara would say... did say... "Fiddle-dee-dee. I won't think about it now, I'll think about it tomorrow, when I can stand it. After all...tomorrow's another day."