Heather isn't in today. She should be writing a post, but instead she's having a quiet panic attack. You see, after a devastating loss* to the citizenry of the People's Republic of Blogistan, she's thinking about her own mortality and having her usual stomach ache/chocolate binge/late-night infomercial freak out. Basically? She's being a selfish dumb ass who can't deal.
Plus? Her mom's anemia may be something more. Something a lot more. And it's not that she can't cope with that. It's that she can't cope with the possibility of having that discussion with her kids. Who are really young. And probably wouldn't get all of it. But would nonetheless demand an explanation of some sort.
So, Heather will be back tomorrow. After a North & South marathon. With oodles of Patrick Swayze.
Who is, himself, facing his own mortality.
Ugh. Never mind.
* Lisa, I wish I had known you. I wish you much peace. I wish your family comfort. I wish... you didn't have to leave. I also know what you would say to me right now. "It is what it is." Good voyage, m'dear.