I had so much fun in New York.
I was so happy, that it made me realize how miserable I've been.

I feel guilty thinking that this was the best birthday ever. Because how can it be, when my mom isn't here to hear all about it when I get home?

How can I just come back and be so sad after being so happy for 4 days? Maybe it was being able to be constantly distracted by someone and keeping busy...

I don't like being a miser.

confession time

I can't really have sympathy for people who have family members entered into the hospital for non-fatal illnesses and then are released. I should understand the worry that comes from something non-fatal, and the worry that it may lead to larger issues, but I can't sympathize.
Because nothing will ever be as terrible as going to the hospital with your mom who had dinner with you earlier that evening, and then have her pass away 4 days later.

It's almost been 5 months. I'll never get over it.