Atomictumor

After BJ’s funeral, I headed home to drop off some stuff (the sweater, iPod, healing shawl, and other stuff that Crystal held onto after BJ died), and to grab the lappy, and headed up to the GAC Memorial Parking Garage Roof.  Its a nice cool day out, if I take off the jacket and roll my sleeves up.

I’m wearing the Venture Bro’s shirt that GAC and I (mostly GAC) got for our wedding renewal, 42 days ago, underneath my nice shirt.  GAC loved the shirt, but hates wearing new clothes.  It was given to me on a probationary period so that I can break it in for GAC, but damn, its a nice soft t-shirt.  I’ll wear it tonight.

Whats the point of that?  I don’t remember.  Something about the universe, the duality of man, the cyclic nature of existance.

One, when talking me down from a bad trip (don’t ask), I kept telling her “It comes in waves.”

She’s say “What does?”

I’d say “The bad trip,man”

10 minutes of me silently wigging out followed (or maybe 30 seconds, who knows), and I said the same thing.  She’d repeat the same thing.  Eventually I realized that I was repeating myself, and got out of it.

Why am I telling you about a bad trip we had many years ago?

Why is anything anything?  It has a point, I think, somewhere, but I can’t tell you what it is, and I think you’d be wrong if you tried to tell me what it is.

Anyway, ixnay on the acidsay, K?

—

The funeral was great.  It was lovely.  We filled the joint up.  I saw people I haven’t seen in years, and people I saw yesterday.  Family, friends, strangers, all came together.  The pictures I made at Staples yesterday turned out well.

Aunt Nun and the other Aunt did a damn fine job.  It was a touching service, and everybody seemed to like it.

I squeezed that little Pigpen the whole time.  MastaG was beside us, being held by his uncle Jeff.  Pigpen spilled water all over his shirt, and had to go to the bathroom once, and that was awesome.

Life goes on, people.  4 year olds pee.  The sun shines on rooftops.

Its a Saturday.

—

So, while I’m not necessarily living in The Beauty right now, I’m feeling pretty good.  BJ’s ashes are going home to her parents house, and they appreciated the box urn thing. I gave most of the pics to them, but kept a few that I really like.

She was a beauty.  I always knew that.

Anyway, thanks.  I was really not looking forward to the thing, and it turned out great.  I smiled damn near the whole time, I think.  Maybe it wasn’t on my face, but it was in my head.

Have a nice Saturday people.  See you at 6 in the Old City.  Email or contact if there are any questions/problems/thingys.

Last night, I don’t know what time, but after I fell back asleep from my previous post, I woke up to that limbo state between sleep and wakefulness in a cold pit of panic:

“Oh shit!  I haven’t talked to the neurologist in a week!  What the hell is BJ’s condition?!  Is she still in ICU?  What the hell kind of husband am I?”

It didn’t take long to remember, and I was disappointed, in the same way you wake up disappointed from a really good dream.

There’s a grey sky this morning, and its 36 degrees.  I’m still in the bed.  I’ll go to BJ’s funeral in 2 hours.  I think I’d like to go the GAC memorial handicap ramp first, in the cold.

I’ll wear a nice suit, I bought it for the Indian Wedding event we mobblogged last summer, lifetimes ago.

See you there.

A few weeks ago, Cathy got a Ramones song stuck in my head, I Wanna Be Sedated. BJ used to use this as the “go to” song to get other songs out of her head when they’d get lodged in there, but the problem is that the side effect is that you go around with a Ramones song stuck in your head.

I understand, as with Jeebinex, there are clinical trials for medications and procedures in Europe to remove Ramones songs from a head, but I’m not sure that the FDA’s palms have been greased enough, so electro-shock is still the preferred method of treating these situations in the US and Canada. We have so far to go.

I went to bed early tonight, like 9:30 or something, in preparation for tomorrow, and because I just was out of steam this evening. I woke at around 11:30, dismayed that it wasn’t something like 3. I mean, hell, it was dark enough. I managed to get back to sleep, but woke up again when BJ’s phone rang a bit ago, and now I can’t get back to sleep. That damn phone still shoots me up with adrenaline every time it makes a noise.

—

The nice thing about sleep (other than the fact that sleep is awesome) is that it kibboshes a lot of the pathos involved here. I mean, I think my head, particularly coming into today, generates more emotion thats unnecessary than it should, almost like static. Yesterday was work, what with making the photos and collages and thingys for the wakes today.

I understand that Aunt Nun and Aunt no-internet-name-yet Jenny have come up with a nice show for the first one. I’m not too sure what it’ll be about, but it’ll be touching. They didn’t really know BJ terribly well, so I appreciate the doing this.

Tonight should be fun, now. Don’t be surprised, tho, if I’m not in the center of things. I never was much of a mingler. Shoot, I might just buy a Nixon mask and hide in the back of the room (that wouldn’t be conspicuous at all, would it?).

I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t looking forward to it, either of them, but I’ll sure be glad when its over. Whew.

When everybody goes home, and real life without BJ begins. I mean, it has to begin sometime, right?

And it’ll be a good life, of that I have no doubt. God, or FSM, has been good to me so far, other than this whole dead wife thing, and I think it’ll continue on. I have two kids that I love more than the sun and the moon, and that are the living link to my soulmate. I’ve been moaning about BJ a lot on this page, and haven’t really be talking about the good time I had with the boys over the past few days.

Pigpen was totally my helper yesterday. He spent darn near all day with me. He told Aunt Nun over supper “I love my Daddy!”, which is not a Pigpenish thing to say. I love it when I feel like I’m doing something right with those boys.

MastaG is the same way, but his day was earlier in the week, since KatyK has been dominating his attention. He laughs, and makes smartassed jokes, and has been completely digging on being 10.

—

OK, enough of this. Its now 3:06, and I need my beauty sleep. 7 hours until showtime.