Auntie Jean's funeral was this morning. I enjoyed myself until my dad told me that he hoped I found peace today. He means well, I know, but how can one person assume they know something about another person's state of peace? Especially when that person is your dad who lives 10 minutes away; passes your street every day on his way home from work; and only sees your kids, who stare at him blankly, at funerals. Once again, the source on my unrest spoke and shifted things to make chaos for me, starting with my gut. You're right, Dad, I don't have peace, and it's not because I declined the Eucharist.

...But thanks for caring about my finding peace. It does feel good to wish things you'd like to have on someone else. I'll just say it here that I hope my dad found some peace today too.