Which way is up?

Death is never easy. Even when someone is sick and you know the end is near, it's not any easier than when someone is ripped tragically from your life. When it's a combination of the two (damn...I knew he was gonna go, but I didn't think he was gonna go that fast), another element of oddity and grief is added.

Stir in a maelstrom of family dysfunction and you've just got a shitpot of overwhelming feelings.

I like stability. I like knowing how I'm supposed to feel about things. Even if I don't agree with the generally accepted society view of how I'm supposed to feel, there's at least some degree of comfort in knowing how to act.

But when things are just so f*cked up to begin with, and then the grim reaper arrives and laughs maniacally while you spin around trying to figure out just which way is up...well, that's a whole new ballgame.

We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

Rest in peace, Mitch. And God, dear God, please grant peace to my shrapnel-ridden family.