I was wakened at 08:37 today by the phone. I automatically handed it to Karen, figgering it was one of her kids.

It wasn't.

She handed the phone back to me. It was Mom, telling me that Aunt Bea had died last night.

Well, dammitall anyway.

Aunt Bea has had Altzheimers for several years, and she recently went into the hospital because her kidneys were shutting down, the first stage of renal failure, Mom told me.

I wasn't expecting her to go quite so soon.

The last conversation that I had with her was a coupla years ago, when she told me that her and Mom were heading to the promised land. I remember thinking, "Leave my Mom out of this!" as we talked, but I didn't say that.

I have a lot of good memories of my Aunt Bea. She was a good person, and I'll miss her, her presence in this world.

Mom had told me that there was going to be a memorial service, and I kinda remembering telling her that we had plans for the coming weekend. I realized after I had woken up completely how trite that was. I will be there when my mother needs me, no matter what I had had planned.

So, the rest of the day.

Cleaned a bit of the clutter off of the computer desk, but you can't really tell it.

Watched the Chiefs get beat by Denver.

Worked on a WWW project that I was enthusiastic about for a while, but that I'm really wondering about now. Details later if it seems to be worthwhile. Otherwise you'll hear nothing about it at all.

And I have spent this weekend relaxing, pretty much. Early week next week, and I have Thursday and Friday off, and maybe Monday if the memorial is on Sunday.

And I'm kinda down.

Mortality sucks, and I hate it.

I *really* hate it when people that I love, people that love me, fall.

That's fewer people in this world that love me, dammit.

And I need, like everyone else, all the love that I can get.

But, and this has happened so often in my life, I don't seem to be able to make time for the people that I love. And this realization, as always, hurts.

The people that love me seem to realize that this is the way of the world, and I suppose that it is, and I hate that, too.

I've said "hate", but it's not that. It's a sad resignation. There are no strong emotions involved, just a dull thud of the heart, just a little more gravity affecting my body and non-existent soul. A little more psychic pain, a little more gray in the colors of the world.

Goodbye, Aunt Bea.