Helping Helpers who Help the Helpless

The funeral was amazingly well done, I thought. They played his favorite music as we came in, integrated three songs (including one he wrote) into the service, had some of his best friends speak, and then Sunny and her youngest sister gave a really beautiful, well-written, well-spoken, non-corny speech. There wasn't a dry eye in the church. The first four rows of left-side pews were filled with his former soccer teammates. It was this amazing sea of green jerseys.

In the evening we went to this barbecue gathering with just the family and the friends of Sunny and her sisters. Sunny clearly needs her space from pretty much everyone except her boyfriend and Birdie. The trouble is, I was Birdie's means of transportation (and initially her lodging for tonight) so if she wanted Birdie she got me, too. I felt very superfluous and helpless. I was the gross black jellybeans that come in the mix. Can't get all the good flavors without the blacks, too. And (to continue my analogy), some people's favorites are the black ones; I actually ended up talking for a very long time to Sunny's dad, who declared me his temporary side-kick. My brand of half-witty half-witted ramblings seemed to be exactly what he wanted. I also really enjoyed talking to one of Sunny's cousins (is it completely inappropriate under the circumstances that I was "intrigued" by this guy?). I just wish I could be a different flavor for Sunny, but this is her story, not mine, so tomorrow I'll go home and if and when she needs or wants me to show up again I will.

When the hell did I get so emotionally healthy? Like all this is terribly sad and overwhelming and I'm not sure if I can handle my brother's latest big issue that's about to become mine starting this weekend, but that weird thing finally happened where I can know something in my head and feel it in my guts. They've stopped fighting so much. Sure, I still frequently feel differently than I think I should, but I've learned to accept what I do feel, see what I'd logically rather fee and why, and then (relatively) patiently wait until the things I feel are ready to change so that when I eventually get to that point, I can shift into the "better" feeling. I've always been able to recite this as a formula for emotional health, but now my guts are more receptive of the overall formula and each thought/feeling that gets pushed through it.
Fuck. I'm a self-help book.