Ugh. It's Death Week.

Yesterday, I noticed myself sinking into what’s generally called a sour mood.

I was having a fine day. I went to my weightlifting class and set a number of personal records about which I felt accomplished. I engaged in housecleaning, a chore I typically enjoy (I know that’s weird), while listening to a couple of fun podcasts. I lay in my bed reading a book I’ve become obsessed with (it’s this one), and I fell asleep for a short nap, something I love to do on the weekends.

Still, crankatoa (that’s what my friend Lee calls it) crept in. And more than that, dread. And a mood I refer to as, “I hate everything.”

It wasn’t until I got to our family’s Easter gathering last evening (a lovely affair with excellent food and good company) that I realized it was April 5th. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Kevin,” my mom said when we walked in. Of course. Duh.

I had finally called the police to do the wellness check for my missing brother on April 10th of 2021, but the medical examiner told me on the phone that he’d died sometime around April 5th. Probably April 5th. April frickin’ 5th!

No wonder my mood was in the (sparkling clean) toilet tank. A cardinal had knocked on my kitchen window that morning, too, and though I’d told Dan it was Kevin (he refrained from arguing), I still didn’t realize it was death day.

I don’t believe in manufacturing grief because grief hits plenty of times, whenever it wants to. I had a grief bomb on my birthday this year already! That should count and cover it because it was only a couple of weeks ago! Sometimes Kevin’s birthday or death day passes, and I don’t descend into “I hate everything.” Sometimes, I guess I do.

After Kevin died, I wrote a whole book about a murderer who can’t ever recover from her fear and grief over her troubled brother. She sacrifices everything for him, but he dies anyway. That book is the funniest one I’ve ever written. Isn’t that weird? It’s called Making Friends Can Be Murder, and it was so fun in the end that I self-published a little sequel.