I'm sitting in the waiting room watching my beloved Troy's number go by - still in the OR. I posted awhile back about my beloved Bippy's surgery for her Stage 2 Ovarian Cancer. She's in chemo today, and I can't be two places at once, and there are fewer team members for Troy, so here I am.

Troy is a gentle, sweet soul. He loves to read Rumi, take the dogs to the river, and study math, physics and astronomy. He's also 6' 4" tall, and 270 lbs of solid muscle, a former Defensive End in the Arena League, and then a coach. He wrecked his hips playing football and is having resurfacing surgery at this very moment. He has a rockstar surgeon and a great team, and an anesthesiologist who put up with us making out in the prep room, so that's cool.

I love that man. He often is the emotional voice when I don't have one that I can articulate, he knows how to give love and comfort no matter what. He was there for Bip, he is always there for me, and he was there for the beautiful young mother I made an urn for just a few days ago.

I'm a jeweler, by the way.

The family I made the urn for; they found out they were pregnant on Christmas morning. I made a tiny sterling silver gift box for them. They filled it with sand from their favorite beaches and buried the tiny baby that they had sealed with wax in a seashell. She sealed the little box. My heart is broken for them, but they are such a good family, and their young daughter is so wonderful, that I know they will be fine. But, still...

I love that my job brings me more than just sparkly shit. (Not that sparkly shit isn't awesome).

I love that what I do can help people, be a symbol of their love or their loss. I've made lots of wedding sets. Only a few urns for babies. Every time I do, it kills me. My brother and his amazing Jessica lost their baby a year ago, full-term. Emergency C-section wasn't fast enough. My whole family was in the hospital with them, and we mourned Elias together, and I made that urn. I have nothing but gratitude that I am able to be useful in that way.

But oh, fuck. A friend of mine said, "How wonderful that you can make such a beautiful resting place for a flawless baby." I lost it. It's just my work, just my soldering and polishing and sawing. It can never be perfect enough.

I'm so tired and so emotionally overwhelmed. Troy was up all last night in pain, I've been working my ass off to have this piece done and perfect, as quickly as possible - the family needed closure. I did it in two days. I haven't slept. Trying to be there for Garth and Jessica, Troy, and Bippy is a lot of stuff.

I would rather have these people in my life, along with all of the hard times than trade my life for anything else, ever. I love them, I'm on board for all of this stuff. I'm here for every sweet and sour bit of it.

(Oh fuck they just paged me, but it was a false alarm.)

...But I wish I could sleep on these chairs. Not happening right now. Buckets of coffee aren't waking me up, either. Calls from friends are great, but I don't need to talk.

Hugs to everybody- all I want to do is just send out love.

In the end, that's all that's important.