I spent a good portion of this evening zoning out from my homework and composing various blog entries in my head. But they all seemed...inappropriate...or something. After Saturday's post. Like I put this thing out there, and now it's just sitting there...and there needs to be some sort of closure before I can justify moving on to other, lighter topics. Which makes sense, since I'm trying to find some sort of closure. I'm still trying to sort out how I feel about Anne's death. I'm sad...but sometimes I don't think I'm very justifiably sad. Like I'm convincing myself that I'm sadder than I am as an excuse for being unable to focus on work. I suppose my mixed up feelings stem from lack of recent contact with Anne. I haven't seen her in over 5 years...but I have these really lovely nostalgic memories of her from my childhood. She and Karen have been together about as long as my parents, so I've known Anne for as long as I've known my Aunt. Anne had this really lovely singing voice, a sort of hard work, classically-trained type of voice. And she was always singing. She'd just open her mouth and this beautiful sound would come out. While cooking, while paddling out on the river in her canoe...she was the rational half of the relationship. Growing up, Karen was always the "cool" relative, the one closest to being a kid. The one who would organize entire days around eating chocolate. Anne was the one who would make sure Brad and I came back alive from visiting the two of them in Boston. She used to be married, had two kids before coming out of the closet. Since her daughter died of aids 10 years ago, Anne and Karen have been raising Anne's grandson. Little Indigo, sitting next to Anne, learning how to strum a guitar while Anne worked the fingering...I don't know what else to say