It's been a rough day, and I'm not quite finished processing things yet.
The rest of the family decided to stay at my grandparents' house tonight. So, I'm alone at my parents' house -- and it's weird.
My parents aren't here. The dog, sadly, isn't here.
It's too quiet.
Mostly, though, I've realized that it's not my house. It's not my home. It's just where my parents reside.
This evening, at the hospital, I watched as my sister's big green eyes filled with tears. She couldn't help it. Later, she said that she wouldn't have cried if my mother had been there.
I know what she means. My mom has a way of making everything easier for us -- for everyone -- to handle. I wish she were here.
Update: This is the note I left my parents the next morning.
It's a good thing that, after all these years, they sort-of "get" me.