Such a weird ride

Eighteen years down the road and I'm finding myself drawn to the beginning. I've known passion in the interim, and obviously he has as well. His youngest daughter is like our daughter version 2.0. Yet after all the anger, pain and animosity, he was who I turned to when Mother died and he's been a rock since. And it's odd how comfortable we are with eachother after all the awkwardness of the last six or so years he's been a peripheral part of our life. I wouldn't change the past for anything, but I'm inexplicably happy he's now a part of the present. As for the future? We'll just have to hide and watch ;)

Packing is my new hobby

Mother died a month ago tomorrow and I spent February packing her stuff and dealing with pneumonia, now I'm packing again to take off for New York. Sabrina and I are heading there for a bit of ash-scattering and birthday celebrating. Some find it ironic that the hermit is "getting away from it all" by going to spend a week on the most densely populated island in the US. I'm never more alone than when I'm surrounded by absolute strangers. I think I'll buy a ridiculous "hand bag". This is going to kick some serious ass :)