I'm still awake. Lots to think about. Paris was a wringer. I'm not even close to processing everything that happened there. I do know that I miss Derek terribly and that his passing still doesn't seem entirely real to me. I'm not really sure when it will. I can't really imagine being sadder than I am now.
I've taken a break from writing here to mourn the passing of my friend, to attend his funeral in Paris and to try to get myself together and move on. Eventually, I'll get back to writing about trivial things: sports, pop culture, current events and the like. For now, though, I'm stuck pondering faith, life and death, and the purpose we all serve on this little planet. This is the kind of heavy stuff I try to avoid thinking about but can't help but consider right now.
It's pretty warm outside, 51 degrees, and I think some rain is on the way. Thanksgiving will arrive, unbelievably, in a couple of weeks. And then (and possibly before then) winter, the dismal season, the time of year when I always question why I live in New England and whether the bursting springs, idyllic summers and glorious falls here really make the suffering of December through March (in a good year) worthwhile, will arrive.
Oddly enough--and I never, ever feel this way--I could go for a good snowstorm tonight, for the calm and serenity of waking up on a Saturday morning with the ground covered in snow, knowing that, for a few hours anyway, there's nothing to do but gaze at the white tree branches and the confectioner's sugar piled up on the sidewalks. But, instead, we're going to get rain, and not-too-cold temperatures, which, in the end, will make life easier, if a bit more boring than snow would have.
If you're looking for something profound in those last few paragraphs, it's not there. I'm just rambling now. It's about all I can think of to do, as sleep still isn't coming easily, and the prospect of a rainy, gray weekend reminds me that the long struggle of winter is about to begin. This year, though, winter will likely be the least of my struggles. Real life can be really lousy sometimes.
It's now about ten minutes to three in the morning. Time to sign off. Good night. I hope to be back again soon.