I feel like I should be doing something. I want to be doing something. Anything. My heart hurts less when I am busy, but at the same time my brain is too busy, and agitated to concentrate. Then there is this waiting. Waiting.

The coroner had to come to the house since dad died at home. She said he would be taken to the county morgue, and we could have a funeral home pick him up – once we decided on one. My mother’s Pastor recommended one, and that is the one my brother called. They had to get permission from the county morgue to pick up dad, and a time to do so. A little bit ago, the funeral home called. They are picking dad up at around 5:30 pm, and we are to meet with them in the morning – around 11:30 am.

So now I am waiting. Waiting until bed time – when I can hide myself away. Waiting until I will be staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, waiting for my brain to STOP, and knowing there will be no sleep, and my brain WON’T stop.