So here's the short of it,
We are moving forward through our tears. 

And here's the long

Today Mom, Russ, Steve, and I spent the afternoon together at Mom's house.  Our task was to work on the list of things that need to be done before Dad's funeral.  As we sat around the table - the boys running off every now and again to do a task so we could check it off the list - we told stories and laughed and cried.  Mom says she's feeling her way into her new reality. I know it's a much harsher new reality for her than for any of us, but I think she's captured it - we are all finding our way into how to live a life without husband, father, grandfather, beloved uncle, or cousin. 

I believe our shared grief is a very healing process. Dad was a wonderful father, and today each of us children has heard stories for the first time, or from a different child's perspective giving us a different glimpse of the man we knew, each in our own way.              

Today was Yom Kippur.  I missed being with Alan and the kids at services, but I wouldn't have attempted to go at any rate because of my low white counts.  I haven't struggled about going to Dad's visitation or to any portion of his funeral service.  I'll try to be careful, and I've made a call to the doctor to see if there is anything at all I might be able to take to give me an immunity boost - we'll just have to see. I am exhausted.  I have pushed myself today far harder than I would have on the 5th day after my treatment. Thank goodness this  treatment cycle has been a bit easier. I've developed a cough that is a bit concerning.  I actually had it last weekend and am just finishing a z-pack, but the cough isn't improving.  I'll see what the doctor says on Wednesday when I go in for my Herceptin.

I know that it is the thoughts and prayers of so many of you that sustains me in this time. Thank you.