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So far I have not retrieved my sister's ashes from the police station, which is okay for now.  They will rest there for 90 days.  There is a little bit of time to decide upon a plan.  It will take up a lieu day, of which I have three to spend.  I do not like NWM city where the police station is located.  My memories of this city have only to do with fighting in court for the custody of J, my sister wearing my old hiking boots and clearly too high to form coherent thoughts beyond telling the judge over and over that she loves her daughter as though it is her capacity for love that is on trial, as opposed to her capacity to provide food, shelter, and safety.  It still makes my stomach hurt.  I do not like this city but I have to go back there to collect my sister's ashes.

Although I appreciate T's kindness so much I wonder if I should just go alone.  Her offer made me wobbly in a way that has since made me ask myself if I should stop being an idiot and go deal with the grown up world like a grown up.  I might just do that.  I haven't decided yet.

D's sister may be dying too - we might have that in common.  When I drove him home (home means foster home) on Wednesday after school he told me I was pretty okay for a white lady.  I side-eyed him while we sat at a traffic light.  I'm not really totally white, I said.  Having none of that, he said, You're actually number one for a white lady.  This kid busts my heart into a million pieces again and again.  Fuck.

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