Whatever gets you through the night

If you're lucky, then you find that have a brother who allows you on the eve of the day you are to scatter your father's ashes at sea, well, he'll allow you into his home even though you have not behaved quite right that night. And by that I mean even though you spilled your entire vocabulary that's relative to anger, grief, pain and resentment onto your mother at a time when it's debatable as to whether or not she deserved it, and he lets it go. Even though you understand the serentity prayer about wisdom to know the difference, and you know and he knows that you did NOT take the high road... he releases you anyway. No question, just support. Well, that's luck. So all this is to say that if you're really lucky, you find that even though you fell into the game of comparative pain with your mother, your brother and his wonderful wife allow you into their home - in fact, invite you - and let you drink Champagne with his wife to the point that, well, you and she become flat out drunk, and even though he doesn't smoke, he places an ashtray before you so that you find yourself drinking and smoking in your non-drinking, non-smoking brother's kitchen, because he said it was okay and he knows that right now, that's what you need to do. Well, if you have that, no matter what you've lost, you still have something good. And by good, I mean to say that you are blessed because, seriously, if you are a daughter and you lose your father, where do you turn? He's the son. And rather than push that on me, what he chose to do was to simply be my big brother. Not easy. He made me realize that I'm one lucky sister. Go figure. I never, no I never ever realized. At the time of my deepest grief, such a realization would appear.