Once again I cried when I got into bed last night. This is becoming a habit.
I feel that I’m trying hard to keep this family going. And at times I don’t think I’m succeeding; and I’m not coping well myself either.
Last night I found myself sitting in bed, in the dark, praying for help. My words were spoken to Barry. How can I ask a higher being for help when I’ve spent most of my life as a non-believer? Why would my prayers be heard? Yet I know that if Barry can hear me, he’d help if he can.
Please Barry, help us get through this. Please give us strength and the courage to go on. Please protect your brother. I know you wouldn’t want him to follow you, not this time, not into death. Please guide Daniel to safety. I can’t do this alone. I love you, Barry. Please help us.
The tears consume me at night, when I’m alone and can no longer hold back my feelings.
The people around me think I’m strong, so why do I feel as if my world is still crumbling? Why do my hands shake as I write these words? When will the agony stop?