My ex-husband died today. It was his 46th birthday just this past Wednesday. Even though he's never on my mind anymore, part of my past, he's still the father of my two children, and when Eva called today, it was quite a shock, and yet not surprising. He died during the night, afixiating on his own vomit. His own father found him when he didn't get up as usual. He is known to have recently using marijuana, as well as multiple prescription drugs he obtained from various doctors using false ID. An autopsy will be performed tomorrow. No matter what they find out, one thing can be said: If Tom had lived a different life, he would be alive today. For now, I am there for Eva and Daniel. Eva called Daniel, and he did not have much reaction. He was in shock, silent on the phone, mumbling he would come if a way could be found. I hope there is a way. It might be helpful for Daniel to have this chance to visit relatives of his Dad's, as well as see Eva, during this time......


I never have enough time. To that end, I have fought sleeping for over 20 years, sometimes successfully, but mostly not. I call sleep the living death, stealer of my life. I love night, and how I feel in it. I also love the cleanliness of dawn, how work accomplished in the early morning after it seems to be much more fruitful than a slow magical night of striving. I want it all, but alas my body only allows some.