Ups and downs and being a new auntie

    I started to write about the morning my mom died, but I just can't.  Instead I want to note that the first day I really felt like the world was a lovely place again was the day I got to see my new nephew.
    He was born October 14th and Furly and I went to visit him the next day.  His name is Cade Merritt Sullivan, and he is a perfect little fuzzy bean.  When he cries, his mom says, "I know, it's hard to be a human," and I think, "Don't we know it sister?"  Her own mother passed away the same day Cade was born, just a couple hours later. I can't imagine what the combination of those two experiences feel like.  The little one is grandmotherless and all his family grieving, and yet our hearts are lifted in his presence.
    What is it about a baby that brings us so much hope, even with the knowledge of inevitable grief and pain and death that comes with life?  Is it the unwritten story we can imagine and hope to watch unfold?  Is it reaching into the past to find our own stories written in their faces?  Maybe they just smell good and feel good; a device of natural selection so we don't just leave them in the woods. 
    I am so happy for my brother and his wife, and a tiny bit envious.  Don't get me wrong; I don't want my own children, but my brother and his wife have a family now that they can focus on.  All of my brothers have families.  We have mom's dog and four cats.  I am so lost right now without my mom to care for.
    So we do little projects.  We painted the front room and we're going to make it our bedroom.  I planted a few things in the yard.  We watch TV.  We eat.  We drink.  I try to get up every day and say, "What do you want to do today?"  For so long we didn't get to choose what we would do, it seemed novel at first.  Day by day it becomes more burdensome.
What do I want to do today?  Nothing. 

TO DO LIST:
Read
Write
Cry
Call about cat spay
Call Mom's CPA
Walk the dog