Hi again,

How are things in heaven? I spend so much time wondering what it's like. Maybe you could take a break from getting your paradise on to write a letter telling me what it's like? Give me the url in a dream. It will be fun!

Speaking of dreams, I had one about you a couple weeks ago that really freaked me out. Essentially, you were expressing to me your anger over the fact that we didn't give you a chance to recover, that we pulled the plug too soon. This really does concern me sometimes. I'm sure the reason I had the dream is because the thought has crossed my mind once or twice since you died. I understand that you were declared legally brain dead and the medical staff would have no longer resuscitated you at that point, whether we wanted them to or not or not, but STILL. We really only gave you a little over a day to wake up. I can sleep that many freaking consecutive hours if I stay out late enough.

Another of my concerns (please forgive me if I've already told you this...though you've known me long enough to expect that I'll repeat shit) was that we left the hospital too early. When the last brain activity test was done and you were officially declared brain dead, we went to mass, packed up our shit, and left. However, your systems didn't all stop functioning until much later because of the organ donation attempts. You know in the movies whenever somebody dies, their soul leaves their body and is floating around the room, looking down on all the people who love them? Well, I don't know when that actually happens and it scares the shit out of me that maybe it doesn't happen until everything is completely shut down...and when you completely shut down, there were NONE of your loved ones anywhere near you. Not a single person you know. And if you were brain dead from the get-go and couldn't see, hear, or feel us (or smell Mom, who refused to shower) like the neurologist said, maybe you didn't know we were with you at all. Is that possible? That you didn't know we were there all along, telling you stories, holding your hand, selfishly praying that God would let us have you for at least a few more years? To be honest, that thought fucks me up. It's what I've struggled with more than anything else since you died. People can tell me over and over again that you were in that hospital room with us, listening to everything we said, but they don't KNOW that. Nobody will ever KNOW that.

This weekend, Nick and I are going to visit Red. It will be our first trip to the cities in months. In fact, I don't think I've been there since the State Fair. What the hell is happening to me? Am I a homebody or what? Please slap me from heaven if I ever reach the point of being too afraid to drive anywhere further than five miles from my home. Especially when I have kids. I don't want to be the parent who will spend time with my kiddos only if they come to me and, even then, only if it fits into my schedule. I want to be like you....putzing down the freeway in a semi-busy metro area, swearing at all the assholes cutting me off and freaking out about which lane to be in.

On Sunday, Nick and I had lunch with JoAnn at Green Mile. I told her you would have ordered the mini walleye sandwiches, so that's what she had. And she looks so damn much like you that it was almost like having lunch with you, except not as awesome. It was really nice though. I was kind of nervous about it, which is dumb. I've always felt that I didn't really connect with JoAnn, so I only spent time with her when you were around to make me comfortable. I probably just needed to grow up and get over my misconceptions, because we had a great time. We even sat and talked for forty-five minutes after we'd finished eating. I very much intend to forge a closer relationship with her now that you're gone. I should have done it while you were still here, but coulda, shoulda, woulda. What's done is done. All I can do now is try to improve in the future.

Now that I've purchased my wedding dress, my wedding nightmares have focused elsewhere. The other night it was the hair. I totally forgot about making a hair appointment until an hour before the wedding and, by then, almost nobody would do it. I finally found one woman in Virginia who would fix my 'do for $100, but she freaked out halfway through and couldn't get it done in time. And she did CURLY TENDRILS in front, for God's sake! That's a nightmare itself. Do you think this means that my priorities are out of whack? First the dress, now the hair. Shouldn't I be having nightmares about Nick getting cold feet and standing me up, or banging a stripper at the bachelor party? Maybe I just know him so well that all I have to worry about is how I look. I guess I'm okay with that.

I'm off to watch tv. DVR is going to ruin my life if it's the last thing it does.

Love you,
Angie