I honestly can't remember the first half of the day. Don't think I was very productive or anything, then. But around 5pm, things kicked off. There was a flashmob wedding on the steps of the Supreme Court. (It's very weird telling a cabbie to "take me to the supreme court".)

That was followed up with the opening night for the DCist Exposed photo show. This is the show I had a picture in last year. No picture this year, but at least 2 of my friends were in it. Living up to it's history, the opening night was slammed. Hundreds or more people filling a huge gallery space and extending in a line down the block. Open bar, this year, and a 'real' DJ setup. Couldn't get a good comprehensive look at the photos. But my overall impression was that they were better than last year.

Dinner at an Indian place in Chinatown, and we all went out to the club afterward. Very much fun was had, and very many people were spoken to. And seen as how I had actually had something to eat this time, I had no problems making it through the night completely aware of my surroundings.

I do have to wonder about my friends, though. I was demanding more beautiful women, and they offered me two hairy -- one large and one small -- men. Seriously… ?

– Author Unknown

And yet I've had very little obvious reaction. I cried the morning it happened, and came close a couple times in the following days. The funeral and calling hours were difficult, but more for dealing with all the people and their reactions. I miss him, and can't really grasp the idea that I will never see him again. We never talked frequently to begin with, since neither of us handled phone calls well. Maybe it just seems like another lull between calls.

It really seems like it should have affected me in some obvious, drastic way. The only thing I might even mildly associate with it was shutting down a bit. Reverting slightly to the closed off nature I'd been trying to shed. I'm hoping it's temporary.

I said to his wife: In his last 10 or 15 years, he travelled, he had a woman who would put up with him, he had new toys, he got back together with his family and his roots. He had friends and indulged in vices and hobbies. He had pets and grandchildren. I can't think of anything else in life that could have made those years better for him. He did what made him happy, and that's all I find important.

Please don't offer me advice or reassurance in the comments to this. This isn't reaching out for help. This is just talking.

From left to right: his daughter Reta, his brother Jerry Don, his aunt Alene, his sister-in-law Linda, his uncle David, and his wife Ann.