I left Oregon yesterday......with many tears...........most of which not expressed due to the external stress of travel, life, reality. I left, feeling as if I was leaving my sister behind. I guess in a way, I was. I waited for my delayed flight, starting to feel achey, flu-ish. Finally I got on the plane, 2 hours later, and was seated. The pilot came on the intercom, and the flight had been canceled due to a cracked windshield. (Seriously?) I got off the flight, feeling more flu-ish, and stood in line with 100 people, literally, trying to find a new flight. I found one - and was able to take off to Dallas. However, I felt close to wrapping a few aberrant toddlers in my arms ever so tightly I land, and it is snowing - like another Northern hemisphere kinda snow - not it is Dallas in March. Somehow in my flu-ish, grieving, disembodied state, I had missed the fact that Dallas was expecting snow. First time in 15 months. I thought, to myself, somewhat fondly, "I love snow". (I really did - until last night.) difficult child's Dad picks me up from the airport - because he had my car - because he had to take care of difficult child while I was gone - and because he is such a loser that he does not have a car. Don't even get me started. We get in the car - and it snows as if I am in the Antarctic. Remember - Dallas. We never have snow. I am literally blinded by the snow, cars are turned the wrong way on the freeway, I have a fever, I miss my sister, and I rip into bio-dad about everything under the sun...........as we are driving on snow encrusted, and ice covered bridges. The weather was so bad I ended up having to stay at his apt last night. Really............there are no words. Except I could now have emphezema from just one night in his smoke filled dwelling. I finally made it way home this morning. I stopped by my therapist, but the whole hour seemed surreal, distant - as if was simply rehearsing an episode of 48 hours instead of the death of my sister. The details really are soap opera worthy - but yet - they are my life. I am sick of talking about them. I just discovered difficult child had skipped taking all of his morning doses of medications while I was gone. Mistake, laziness, who knows - except he will be a flipping mess. Oddly, he also has the flu. How could we both get the flu, simultaneously, 2000 miles apart. We were both in Oregon for the memorial, but that was 4 days ago. Again, really. I am so stressed that I am scared how the repercussions will present themselves. I know myself, and stress always turns into depression, even with a therapist, and medications. And I know difficult child, and with-out his medications on track, and with this amount of stress, he always becomes manic. OMG - I pray, that by some miracle I am able to not sink into that deep, dark hole of despair - and that I am able to skirt around this grief, and difficult children drama, without it pulling me under. My sister was always the one I would call when I felt so down I did not know what else to do. Always, she was there. If she is not there, and I have no husband, or boyfriend - what happens? Where do I go? She was my compass - my map of internal fortitude. Thank you for listening, just like she would. I just cannot believe she is not here. Period. I just, still, cannot believe it.