==== part two. If you haven't read part one yet, please do... Part One====

My world was shattered... absolutely shattered... but I didn't cry. I shoved everything I felt.... just shoved it back. All the anger, all the pain, all the fear... shoved it far down deep inside me. I got to Cali, Victorville/Apple Valley, for those SoCal folks... my Grampa's brother picked me up at the airport... I looked at him and he looked a lot like grampa. When I was standing there on the tarmac, my breath caught in my throat for a moment... I thought... "They lied... he's still alive... oh thank God."

*shakes her head* But he wasn't... *sighs* So... I stayed out of Neva's way as much as I could. I was only 21. I was the youngest there, and I knew, full well, that I had no rights in that situation.... *shrugs* So, when Neva wasn't busy one morning, I asked her for a moment, then showed her the accompaniment tapes I'd brought with me... for her to decide on the song that would be best for Grampa.

She chose Wind Beneath My Wings. Said it was one of his favorites and he'd really like it. So, I would go out into the High Desert and practice... God... I remember staying in that house when I was younger.... I remember riding Cowboy, Grampa's pony... I went out to the field Cowboy'd been in... And I didn't feel a thing.

That horse... that life... had been gone for too many years. I went to the viewing, the day before the funeral. I walked up to the casket that Grampa was in.... and he looked the same as I'd always known him. He looked Desert tanned... his face was slightly leathery looking. His eyes were closed... and he had a faint smile on his lips... that same smile I'd seen on his face when he'd looked at me so many times in the past....

Oh god........

So... I stood there, looking at him... and my heart was in my throat, I couldn't breathe. I swear... he was only asleep. My God, I swear to you he was only asleep. I thought I saw his eyes move, just a little, beneath the lids... I promise... he was only asleep.

*shakes her head* That's the only time during that entire trip that I came close to showing any emotion..... And as soon as I looked away from him, I shut down again..... I just stuffed it all back. I refused to feel anything. I sang the song the next day. Hit it perfectly. No waver, no fluctuation... nailed it. I could see everyone too.... They were all misted up. Some were crying. But everyone was affected.

I got back to Washington, still not having shed a single tear. Not even on the flight back. I came back broken. I was harder, angrier, colder. I was back to running on two cylinders, but I didn't say anything about it. I still saw Jim every few days... but in July, I went to Belfair to live with my Sperm Donar a while. Shit happened at home and It just wasn't a cool place to be... 90% because of my own coldness.

At the same time, Jim had finally kicked the drugs. Was off them completely, not even the perscription of Methedone.... he got a job up in Bellevue. So, we lost contact for a month... I went back home for a visit in August. And was there for two days when the phone call came... It was a Sunday afternoon, heading into evening. The 7th I believe. Jim had died in his sleep Friday night. No sickness, no trauma. He just died in his sleep. Went to bed.... He'd bought a new pair of jeans for himself.... then... went to bed.... and never woke up.

I stared at my Mom. She was on the phone. Tears were streaming down her face. I felt a few on mine. I couldn't talk. I couldn't say anything. I just stared at her.

When I realized I was crying... I shut it down. Crying was weak. Useless. No one was ever brought back by crying about it.

"Are you crying? Why are you crying? There's no crying in baseball... There's no... There's no crying in baseball!" Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own

So... I shut it down. I asked for his leather jacket. I didn't expect to get it cause I'd asked for my Grandfather's guitar... but I wasn't allowed to have it. *shrugs*

That jacket still hangs in my closet.

I sang at Jim's funeral too. The same song. But I didn't hold it together as well that time.... my voice cracked. I lost it for a second at the end. But there wasn't a single person who wasn't crying a little at his funeral.

I remember going over to Stuart's place afterward. I wasn't willing to go back home. I wasn't willing to make the hour drive back to Belfair quite yet. So, I went to Stuart's place. We didn't talk. We just sat there... he watched TV. I played with Alfred... his German Wire Hair Pointer... Or rather, I petted him.

I think it was Alfred. Perhaps it was Fritz... I don't remember which one was first..... not that it matters anymore.......

I didn't cry then either.

After a while... I think Stuart and I talked for about 10 minutes out of four hours.... I left. I drove to Belfair and sat at HDs. Rick asked me what was wrong (Rick was the bartender). I didn't reply. He didn't bother me after that. Just made sure my soda was filled at all times. I would love to have turned to something stronger... but I was driving. *shrugs*

I really shut down then. I was again running on one cylinder... however, I was still going as fast as when I was running on four. I was burning out. And I didn't care.

I went through the motions. The only reason I'm still alive, I think, is because I got refueled whenever I sang. Whenever I was doing Karaoke... it was like... something in singing was refueling me. Of course... it's like using Nitro. I'd shoot forward, but once the nitro wore out... I had to wait a while before I could use it again... and I wasn't running on anything else.

*shrugs*

Gah, this is a long-ass entry.... I'm sitting here with the headphones on and Queen's Who Wants to Live Forever just came on. I have a feeling I'm going to be posting this in a few different parts. But... C'est la vie, non?

===Part Three is next...===