Let's add a layer -

You remember this entry, right? Okay.

Let's start adding some layers. That - that was a summary, and not even a complete one. But here's a quick and dirty aside for today, after noting that 'one of these things is not like the other, one of these things doesn't belong' - again.

You know what really sucks? Somebody loses their spouse *instantly* and the first thing I go for (after I remember to apologize, first things first and all that) is advising the survivor to get a pad and pencil, and carry them. Because they won't remember shit for 45 days. Oh, and not to make any permanent decisions for 90 days, because asking them to do anything more than breathing for that long is unfair.

I'm so used to staying on my feet and ready to deal with the next blow, that's all I do anymore.

Between the tears scaring the shit out of people, and the absolute certainty that if I fell apart there would be nobody to pick it up and carry on if I didn't - I don't. I just don't. Feelings - okay, later. Later, always later. Guess what never comes.

I am so sorry, popfiend - you (and your dear Lisa) deserved better from me than that.

(But that was the best advice I ever got, completely unasked for, when it happened to me. May her memory bring peace.)

No, there just isn't enough Emily Post for this stuff.

Let's add a layer -

You remember this entry, right? Okay.

Let's start adding some layers. That - that was a summary, and not even a complete one. But here's a quick and dirty aside for today, after noting that 'one of these things is not like the other, one of these things doesn't belong' - again.

You know what really sucks? Somebody loses their spouse *instantly* and the first thing I go for (after I remember to apologize, first things first and all that) is advising the survivor to get a pad and pencil, and carry them. Because they won't remember shit for 45 days. Oh, and not to make any permanent decisions for 90 days, because asking them to do anything more than breathing for that long is unfair.

I'm so used to staying on my feet and ready to deal with the next blow, that's all I do anymore.

Between the tears scaring the shit out of people, and the absolute certainty that if I fell apart there would be nobody to pick it up and carry on if I didn't - I don't. I just don't. Feelings - okay, later. Later, always later. Guess what never comes.

I am so sorry, popfiend - you (and your dear Lisa) deserved better from me than that.

(But that was the best advice I ever got, completely unasked for, when it happened to me. May her memory bring peace.)

No, there just isn't enough Emily Post for this stuff.

Let's add a layer -

You remember this entry, right? Okay.

Let's start adding some layers. That - that was a summary, and not even a complete one. But here's a quick and dirty aside for today, after noting that 'one of these things is not like the other, one of these things doesn't belong' - again.

You know what really sucks? Somebody loses their spouse *instantly* and the first thing I go for (after I remember to apologize, first things first and all that) is advising the survivor to get a pad and pencil, and carry them. Because they won't remember shit for 45 days. Oh, and not to make any permanent decisions for 90 days, because asking them to do anything more than breathing for that long is unfair.

I'm so used to staying on my feet and ready to deal with the next blow, that's all I do anymore.

Between the tears scaring the shit out of people, and the absolute certainty that if I fell apart there would be nobody to pick it up and carry on if I didn't - I don't. I just don't. Feelings - okay, later. Later, always later. Guess what never comes.

I am so sorry, popfiend - you (and your dear Lisa) deserved better from me than that.

(But that was the best advice I ever got, completely unasked for, when it happened to me. May her memory bring peace.)

No, there just isn't enough Emily Post for this stuff.