Memorial

Yesterday was Ben's memorial. It was in the sweltering Sacramento outdoor heat, though the fortunate set-uppers found a shady spot. I drank an entire gallon of water that I bought at a gas station on the way to the park. I got to hear stories from Ben's high school friends, from his family, and heartfelt speeches from my own close friends. I think everyone cried, but many of the stories were just funny, about the various forms of destruction carried out at Ben's old house (where he lived when I met him, and where apparently everyone spent time).

Afterward, I rode over to the hospital to visit with Sean, who's started talking again, although tentatively. The way that's phrased, I know it sounds like I'm talking about a child, but bone marrow transplants fuck your shit up in many areas, one of which is the throat/mouth. He hasn't spoken in days. We talked for a little while about the day, and about Ben. I was putting sheets on his hospital bed for him, and he was sitting on my cot, telling me (pretty nicely) how I was doing it wrong, when I realized how happy I was to hear his voice.

Then, I burst into tears, because my tear ducts are unstoppable these days.

There's some major work drama going on that no one is allowed to talk about, but that everyone is talking about anyway. I don't know what it is, and I'm going to make it a point never to find out.