I still have very little to say about Quinn passing. I've never known the death of a child. I'm learning a lot about myself with this whole grief thing. It's nice to know that I'm capable of compassion, and for the first time in my life, that little voice that sits in my head and critiques everything, is silent. I'm just acting, I'm not thinking. I'm aware enough to pick up the feedback that I'm being a support to others, and it's been amazingly easy to accept support, too. I'm not shutting people down or blowing off their efforts. I hope I stay this way... I like me a lot better now. Q brought so much into this world, I just sit and marvel at how unbelievably lucky I am to be blessed with this too.

We wound up throwing an impromptu wake after the memorial service. Everyone got way drunker than they should have. It's the first IGPS anything where a bunch of people were out of control, sloppy-drunk. I can't imagine it being any other way, though. It was liberating, it was good for us, and it was sad. I think I'm beginning to understand the whole drink-to-forget thing. When you're really soused, it's painless. I really wish I could have gotten into that state, but all the Mudslide in the world wasn't doing it for me. -I was plowed last night, and I was still stone cold sober. You shouldn't feel sober when you can't walk a straight line.
I guess the shaman in me wouldn't let me use drink to shut down my connectedness. Actually, that's pretty damn cool. We went through 4 packs of cigarettes last night... I was down to maybe 10 a day. This whole think sucks. It's not right, and it's not fair, and I rail against the injustice of it all, then the next second thank the universe for the gift that Quinn was. If you never met him, you have no idea what a fabulous soul he is.
Clearly, I'm just mind-dumping here, and it's not changing anything, so I'm gonna stop.