Ferry Boat

I’m feeling really fried today and I actually did not feel like writing. Tomorrow is the 18th and it will be nine months since Sarah died. I’m not feeling like it’s any easier. I actually feel like I’m more prone to bouts of tears and craziness. I get pumped up and smiley and almost giddy when I’m around people as if I’m trying to prove a point that I’m okay, I’m going on with my life, but inside I feel terrible.

I don’t know why children have to die. I saw a photo posted in one of my Facebook vintage photo groups yesterday of someone’s great-grandparents with three or four daughters and the poster was saying that one of the daughters died at nine months and one died at age twenty-two. I can’t imagine the mother’s sorrow. Of course the other day the BBC had a news item about a man in Nepal (or somewhere else) who lost eleven family members in a pleasure boat disaster. He didn’t think the boat looked safe but his family members wanted to go, so off they went.

Would it be better to be on or off the boat? I really can’t say right now. I’m feeling very down, I suppose I’ll feel better soon.