Saturday morning, we lost my cousin.
And by Monday, my aunt was going into surgery.
We had already been anxious about her bypass, and then suddenly we were also trying to process a death. It felt like there wasn't enough space between one heavy thing and the next.
Saturday was grief.
Sunday was waiting.
Monday was another kind of fear.
It was strange having two completely different worries occupying the same weekend. One was about someone who was already gone. The other was about someone we were desperately hoping would come home.
I don't really have a profound thought about it.
It was just a heavy weekend.
And I'm glad it's over, and my aunt had a smooth surgery!