The silence is so loud, it's deafening.

It turns out that my sixth sense has scared me into being highly sensitive with the current situation. My brother-in-law, Richard Babcock passed-away last Saturday night due to high blood pressure. The fact is, when I heard of this first all of a sudden at 2am in the morning, I sensed the air for his presence only to find no response from his being. At first, when it was mentioned he was in the car, I pictured him disoriented inside, his head slung over the seatbelt. I really don't need more images. This scares me. And for reasons known, he is often in my thoughts as I take a tally of the things we could have done together, the things we'd said we would do, his own personal talents and the life he has led.

Which is why I'm not going to his funeral. I've explained to my family my reasons and they have accepted it. Being hyper-sensitive about a loved-one who passed-away is very difficult to handle. I can understand what my sister is going through because I'm going through it too (but probably not to a greater extent).

This whole week has been disjointed in behaviour. Monday and Tuesday exhibited traces of attention deficit with spurts of attentiveness. On Wednesday, I was completely "out of it" in terms of participating actively in our task analysis sessions. Yesterday, my brain was in hyperdrive. It didn't last as I find myself lagging again today after having cried over the whole ordeal last night.

There's not much enthusiasm right now in my work even though I am somewhat pleased that we obtained valuable results.

I feel like we haven't been brother and sister for the past five years because of my studying in Ottawa and her living apart from the rest of the family. This worries me. I keep thinking I must do something for her, but I can't. There is nothing to be done now or ever. Yes, no special skills are needed, but I'm thinking that just merely living and going about our daily lives isn't the answer.

Maybe, there are no answers.