I am on the 25th floor of my parent's condo watching the rain pour from the sky, and slide down their windows drop by drop . Enya (sp) my dad's favorite musician is playing, and I am sitting by my dad's bed as he loses ground every single minute. The world around me literally and mentally feels so dark. My dad is groaning in his sleep, and he almost choked to his death this morning. The nurse has been hear all day because his excretion system shut down. Now he is finally able to get some rest. All morning we talked about his memorial and planned that with his friend. Turns out I will have to fly to Dallas for the memorial, which drained even more air out of me. It will be hard enough scattering his ashes with Heidi's on the mountain. Then I will fly to Dallas for who knows how long, before I can get back to AZ. It feels like I will not ever see my puppy or house again. Tesla will be all grown up and probably not even know who I am. Actually it feels like I may not ever see normal again, because once I do wrap everything up with my Dad than I will have to take a job somewhere and move. The more this life goes on I feel like less and less of a person, but more like a hollowed soul. One that is silently going through life, simply existing to meet the obligations that are there. One that is only here on earth to keep the cogs of the wheels turning. Matt called me today to tell me that he is fed up with living in AZ because he cannot find any weed. Apparently that is his life goal now, to be high. I really have no words for that at this moment other than - sad. I think the piece of this that is most deeply disturbing me, is that I don't really have any friends. I mean I have a few, but the most I get from them is the patronizing, oh is there anything I can do to help. Or lectures on mortality, love, and peace. I feel so void of any deep connections in my life - you know- the kind that tether you to the world. When my Dad passes it will be my role to support my Mom, not get support. Which leaves me receiving support from no one but God and myself. No one to get advice from, or guidance. I am scared. I am scared I will just dry up, and disintegrate when the wind blows. Emily Dickinson says it best: "I measure every grief I meet With analytic eyes; I wonder if it weighs like mine, Or has an easier size. I wonder if they bore it long, Or did it just begin? I could not tell the date of mine, It feels so old a pain. I wonder if it hurts to live, And if they have to try, And whether, could they choose between, They would not rather die. I wonder if when years have piled-- Some thousands--on the cause Of early hurt, if such a lapse Could give them any pause; Or would they go on aching still Through centuries above, Enlightened to a larger pain By contrast with the love. I know there is nothing anyone can really say - but it does help me just to be able to "tell someone" how I really feel. Thank you.