In the last 26 hours, I've been on the road 17 of them. I love driving but this was business and I procrastinated getting the details organized. Stress. Things went very well but due to fatigue, Christmas and a flight on Sunday, I may not attend my friend's funeral. That's another 11 hours on the road and he would not want me to do it. He was a funeral director. He helped me bury our amazing friend 20 years ago. I drove all night with a baby-in-tow. He was glad I came but assured me if I hadn't she would have understood. So, all of that's come up for me. What is "that"? It's the deep missing of them. It's desire to just call them up and chat it out. It's the longing to share life stories...our processions in time. It's the lack, lack, lack of them. It's also the wanting to say all the words you should have said...and so I say them, anyway. Actually, my mind repeats them. These two friends certainly knew how much I loved them. I repeat those thoughts now because it's the only thing I have the power to do. Words containing unconditional love. Words weighted with thankfulness of having known them. Words describing moments shared most about being stupid kids who were having a whole hell of a lot of fun. I end up laughing. That's the space they want me to enter. That's where they are...a space of joy. There is a tiny non-exhausted part of me that says I can pull off the drive. A part that whispers I should go and comfort my other friends. I think I'll just sleep and maybe by morning I'll hear more clearly what I'm to do.