The worst part is when I come home from somewhere and nobody greets me at the door.  For two days I thought I was never going to stop crying.  But today, I am just horribly sad.  I know that is the way it is going to be.  Sad, and lonesome.

I realized that since 1970 when Ken got back from Viet Nam, I haven’t had to go to bed by myself.  That’s fifty-two years.  Friday, Saturday and Sunday night I kept reaching out to see if Squig was there.  I know why a stuffed bear brings a little comfort.  I kept hugging my pillow.

Grief is one of the ways we know there is a God.  Only He understands where grief comes from.  When I have prayed these last few days, I have asked Him how he stands the death of all the people who reject his love.  I am reminded of the scripture that says, “What is man that you are mindful of him...?”  Why did God knowingly invent, create, people that have the capacity to break His heart?  It makes no sense.  Maybe that’s what love is.