Seven years ago today Matt flipped his truck on I-5. I wish I believed he was
somewhere better but I'm pretty much an atheist sort. So it seems weird to address his spirit, like trying to address the spirit of a rock or something like that. It would be comforting if I did believe, for then a conversation wouldn't be totally out of the question.
I just spent the evening at the Sloane's for their Christmas Eve. For all their neuroses, they love each other. And they can spend time with each other.
I'm feeling that lack today. Not a lack of love. Call it familiarity, though that's not really the right term either.
Mom could bring that closeness out of my family. Without her, it feels like I have siblings not a family. The closeness is there with individual parts of my family, but the whole doesn't coalesce.
Not yet anyway.
Matt not being here is just one chip out of what feels like fracturing bedrock.
Then again, maybe I've been shut inside due to the snow too many days in a row.
Speaking of which, all the complaining about the snow, all the problems it causes, how it's all someone else's fault... seriously... it's amusing and saddening me. Shit happens. You deal with it. Or you don't.