So I went to the party yesterday, and I had mixed feelings about the event. My parents were there, my brother and his wife were there, my uncle and his family made an unexpected appearance, and there were also seemingly millions of other kids running around like mad men and women. So that I would not sit around over thinking, I made it a point to keep busy. I cued up the music (Foreign Exchange, go buy it), I snapped numerous pictures, and I tried to crack as many jokes as possible to mask my pain. At one point, my nephew came up to me in his Batman outfit, and spread his arms for a hug, and I picked him up, hugged him tight, and I told him I loved him. Right after I put him down, I felt myself getting choked up, and I put my evacuation plan in motion. I kissed everyone, made sure the family knew which gift was mine, said my goodbyes, and I exited stage left.

About 20 minutes later my father called to check on me, and he said he and my brother were surprised I stayed that long. He also said that it meant a lot to my brother that I even made the effort to show up and my brother confirmed this earlier this evening when he called, and of course that choked me up a little more. I understand that the grieving process takes time, and I know for me to attempt to cheat or shortchange that process is futile. Still, I don't like feeling "abnormal" or feeling like a charity case. I felt the same way after the fire, and it makes me extremely uncomfortable. No one means any harm I know, but still. I like being "regular" you know? If I let my lady guest blog one day, she might feel a different way..but this is how I feel right now at 8:35pm.

Anyway, my nephew is officially 2 today, and one he'll read this and say damn, Rashad really IS crazy. So happy birthday young Nazir.