Fourth and ......Long....

I'm back.

Back on the blog, back to work and...well, just leave it at that.

Jack and I had a very low key Fourth on Saturday, but he'd been to the beach on Friday, an amusement park two days earlier and camp from 9 to 6 every other day, so I think it was okay that we didn't do much. We did go up Angeles Crest to view some fireworks in the San Gabriel Valley below, but they weren't big enough or loud enough to rouse Jack's interest. I thought it was cool to look out over the valley and see fireworks from 11 or 12 venues, but what do I know? Next year I guess we'll watch the fireworks at one of the staged shows. There's kids there, too, which is always a good thing.

Sunday the fifth was more like a Fourth, with a lunch at Joyce's. Steph and Olivia and Harriet and a couple friends of joyces rounded out the table. The best part was when they all played the game of LIFE afterwards with Jack. Dad had busied himself with fixing a fence for Joyce. I popped my head in a few times and saw Jack's smiling face, which is always a treat.

Jack is on the phone at the moment, his first real phone call from a friend (Mac). They've been talking for almost ten minutes, which is 9 minutes longer than most of his phone conversations. I've heard talk of Legos, Toontown, Jack being reprimanded by a camp counselor for too much knocking into other boys. Sometimes they seem like bowling pins...

I had an interesting conversation this morning about my being on Match. It seems that some people disapprove. More than some. Oh, well. No one has walked in my shoes, nor can they get inside my head, nor know my demons. I often do things in my own way and on my own time frame. This is one of those times. Not only do I live in the here and now, I've already been here. I've had more than enough time in the last six years to imagine the future. I was here a thousand times. From the time I saw the chilling photograph of Andrea's insides and talked to the surgeon I knew that only a miracle drug would save her. I hoped and helped and did everything I could while Andrea was alive, always knowing that it was an uphill battle. She fought a good battle, but the forces against her were stronger, and they wore down her body, but not her spirit. Andrea died, and a part of me died too. But I don't need a year or two to grieve, I've been grieving longer than that already.