alone still

I've tried for a few hours now to calm back down. I painted, it didn't help. I've decided I'm an artist now. HA! When my youngest grandson was born (I've got three), I painted a picture for he and his brother. It was a hill with a raven flying over head. The sun was shining brightly. It was my artistic interpretation of both their names. I am so not able to paint. Tonight I muddled through backgrounds. They are deep burgundy, sort of watercolor, although I didn't use watercolor paints. My daughter will write the Japanese symbols for faith, love, and hope on them. I'll put them in black frames. I'll put them in a room where I can sit quietly and reflect. On what? I don't know. Not death, not with the words faith, love, and hope. Temporal vs eternal. There's a reflection. Where do I put my stock? I have hope in today and hope in an eternity even when I feel as psychotic as this evening. It's the knowledge rather than the feeling. I am trying so desperately to figure all this out. To process my own grief. To somehow slow my pounding heart in order to walk upstairs and crawl in bed. I'm jealous of a fab in St Louis, which has once again whisked my husband away. I want to feel his arms around me, as I drift off to sleep.