It's been a difficult week. Back to work and the real world. It stinks.
I'm trying to get motivated. I want to crochet, but I can't make myself do it. Too many things running through my head right now. I'm waiting for a call back from the people we got Brutus, my dad's dog, from. I'm so afraid that, now that my dad is gone, they will want to take Brutus back. I promised my dad that we'd keep him. He's such a wonderful dog and was my dad's best friend. His eyes would well up with tears when he told us how much the dog meant to him. I couldn't give him back, my heart would break again. He is adapting so well here - he's finding his comfort zone here, even though he does miss my dad - you can tell. I don't want to lose the dog, too.
My mind keeps going back over those days in the hospital when my dad said goodbye to me. He knew he wasn't coming out, and I told him to stop thinking that way. We grasped at the straws the doctors and nurses threw us. It was easier for us than accepting reality.
I promised some crocheted rosaries to Barb for her church's Easter bazaar. I have 5 finished. She'll be up for a visit tomorrow. I guess I should just get down to business so she'll have them to take home with her.