My paternal family saw the weekend through. Apparently, we're tough little buggers that hold it together until the last. My mother (divorced from my father) responded to the news poorly. She hadn't known how bad my uncle was doing. She knew he had cancer but she had not known that they determined that it was caused by asbestos. One of her first questions was How is your grandmother doing?
My grandmother? Is a tiny but tough woman. She held it together and weathered the storm. There were a few times when she had to step out, but that was last weekend. She has been through everything and she just doesn't fall apart. I don't think she could if she wanted to.
I finished my JanNoWriMo goal tonight by surpassing 50,000 words on one story. The novel has not reached completion. People keep mentioning that it is remarkable that I managed so much when such things were going on. I'd be lying if I told them writing fiction wasn't sheer, joyous escapism. I've had little else to do this past week other than write and worry. So I've written.
Look: the turtle made it. He didn't even get run over.
