This morning on my way to a potluck my husband called. He had called several times over a short period and I didn't answer the phone.
He called again.
He wanted to know if I had spoke to my Grandpa. I hadn't.
My Grandma (my grandpas ex-wife) called my daughters cell phone. She spoke to my husband.
My birth father died in his sleep this morning.
The sense of loss took me by surprise. The tears that formed as my husband told me over the phone...they, too, took my by surprise.
I arrived at the potluck a few minutes later. Everyone there knew. Each of them, including my daughter, were surprised that I did not seem upset.
I'm angry. That anger is portraying itself within myself physically. My ribs...they are screaming at me today. Screaming they have been kicked in the gut.
I chatted with my mom on Facebook for a few momemts and let her know.
I'm angry at her response. It was what I expected. I did not expect it to very hurtful. And it was.
Silently grieving...in ways I don't understand.