Cookie Caper

Ok.  I 'm going to say up-front this is a very stupid overreaction.  Today when I got home I was already in a bad mood.  Getting back to work isn't that easy.  I have time to sit and think things through with no distractions.  And when I got home things where not going as I had expected them to go.  I went out and got the mail and the first batch of Dad's mail had arrived including a couple bills, medical insurance paperwork, and his FINAL paycheck.

That was hard to look at.  Then out of the corner of my eye I see that my mother's husband had grabbed a box of Girl Scout cookies and was opening it.  Not just any Girls Scout cookies, but DAD'S Girl Scout cookies.  The ones his brothers had brought back when they cleaned out his office.

It's not like I was planning on eating them (see yesterday's post), but I also didn't want someone to just grab them without asking.  To be fair to Wayne didn't know their importance, and to be honest I didn't realize it either until that moment.

Don't get me wrong, I don't want them to be left untouched to become the "Great Monument of Girl Scout Cookies That Belonged to My Father," but at the same time I don't want them to just disappear unnoticed.  It may sound weird, but I need to get rid of them myself, on my timetable, on my terms.  I need to know where they go and I need to have some say in it.

So I got angry and like I always do I bottled it up, but at the same time made sure everyone around me knew I was angry.  I didn't answer when asked what was wrong.  When confronted with it I denied that this stupid little issue was bothering me.

And it is stupid really.  I know it... you're thinking it... it's just a plain stupid thing to get angry about.  But of course the cookies weren't what I was really angry about.  I lost my Dad.  He's not here anymore and all I have left of him are my memories and the things he left behind.

I think this was just the culmination of so many things that had been building the entire day.  It's not the first time it's happened since Dad's passing and I know it won't be the last.