Ken called me Thursday night and asked me to stay the night, which Ros and I did. It was like a junior high school slumber party. We all slept on the living room floor and watched Mr. Woodcock. -- We needed something to keep us fresh and alive.

Friday was a whirlwind. I ran from the north end of town to the south and back again, getting this, getting that, dropping this off, picking that up. I spoke with the funeral director for a short while, realizing what a nice lady she was and that she had everyone's best interest in mind ... that, and she didn't charge a penny.

Ros got off of work at four, and we met at Target to get her a shirt and me pantyhose. After, we raced home and got our clothes then ran up to Missy's to take showers and get ready because we didn't have any hot water.

We got to the funeral home at about 5:30.

It was numbing, the whole thing, just the most numbing experience. Death is awful, no matter who it is, but it's just a tad harder when it's a child.

I just wanted to lay in bed today, so I called off work, took a vacation day. I just can't deal with people today.

I've been smoking the last few days. It's not something that will last, it's just something I need right now to calm me.

Ken and Felicia had Raiden's ashes placed in a white marble urn, something smooth and easy to write on, as they wanted all loved one's to write messages and prayers on the urn. I wrote on the top, first star to the right and straight on 'til morning.