Trying to return to normal

Whatever normal is …

It's been more than three weeks since Marty disappeared beneath the waves, and three days ago, his body was recovered. Eventually, the medical examiner should be able to answer at least some of the questions about his death.

As time goes by, I'm getting better. The summer term at the community college is about to begin, and getting immersed in work should help. Also, as the events surrounding Marty's death fade into the past, they're not so painful any more.

We had a couple of Gerald's buddies visiting up at the cabin this past weekend, and they're both just fantastic guys who really made the weekend a success, helpful, courteous – their parents should be proud of them. We even had a bit of comic relief when the State Parks people put the ranger boat into the water and forgot to put in the drain plug; Gerald's buddies helped to save the day, along with the current NMSC dockmasters.

But I do still get spells. I have thoughts and memories, and sometimes I find tears leaking from my eyes even without a triggering event. I took a nap, and I had a dream that I was riding in Marty's truck with him. There was no conversation; he was just driving and smiling that smile.