Text to my mom from 20 minutes ago:
Did i tell you that on November 9th, two weeks BEFORE dad's diagnosis, "Young at Heart" played on the radio and I sobbed my little head off because I knew that something was wrong with him?
Yeah I can listen to that song now without wanting to die. As of like, today. It's still a sob festival but in a sort of happy-sad way instead of "this makes me feel like I am scratching my fingernails against a brick wall trying to dig through it because I can't get my dad back"
(The how we do journaling is "I have just enough brain to copy and paste things I want to remember later I guess," because wow the ME/CFS is still extremely oppressive on my poor brainpan.)
