Most Loathed Enemy

I believe I have now stumbled upon the most annoying thing in the world.

Lance's socks...the ones he wears with his combat boots.

I AM SO TIRED OF PICKING UP TINY LITTLE BALLS OF BLACK FUZZ! They are EVERYWHERE...particularly all over my freshly vacuumed bedroom carpet.

GAH!!!!!!!!

I should just walk around with the Dirt Devil in my hands at all times. As it is, I follow Lance around wherever he walks, picking up the bits of lint that he leaves in his wake.

Blindsided

Now that I'm breathing normally and calmed down, I need to make sense of things.

Grandma England is dying. She is dying.

She just got out of the nursing home a few weeks ago. She was recuperating at her niece's house in Fort Wayne...learning to walk again (maybe). She was happy. She was getting healthy again.

A brain aneurysm took her down this morning. Just like that. She's on life support, but she's being taken off as soon as everyone can get to the hospital. She had a living will. She wanted it this way.

She's going. And I feel helpless. And the first thing I did after sobbing into Lance's shirt was call my other Grandma to tell her that I love her. I made her cry. I didn't mean to do that.

I'm just glad that I saw Grandma E. this summer on my visit home. She was so happy when I came to the nursing home. She didn't know I was coming. And she bragged to all the nurses about her granddaughter who came all the way from Germany to see her.

I love you, Grandma. Peaceful rest.