Well... the idiot had the gutts to show his face at the session with the grief counselor. Those of us who lived across the street from the dead man looked at each other in shock.

I started shaking. I almost started crying. I had to be patient while a woman spoke her piece about someone she just lost. As soon as I could, I spoke up to the manager and to the woman that was leading the group and said that I had a huge problem with the last person to walk into the room. He obliged me and left, of course, angrily.

The other one of the neighbors patted and rubbed me on the back, the other one held my hand as I spoke and "seconded" what I said. My husband, for the first time realized the intensity of my emotions. I spoke of how this idiot had always hated Bill and how he had to be in the limelight once Bill's body was discovered, being the "town cryer" up and down our street. The man that was holding my hand backed me up with everything I said. The other man rubbed faster.

I don't remember what I said, but I think I started some arguments? loud talking?... Anyway, a gentleman got up and said that we should get back to what the meeting was about.

The idiot came back in and said he needed to be there and sat himself down again admitting that having come into my house without permission had been wrong. I spoke up and said that hadn't been an issue. He repeated himself. As far as I can see, he gave himself up. That wasn't an issue to bring up at that meeting.

He also said that he did not hate the dead man and that there are no good or bad neighbors... just neighbors. The manager corrected him, reminding him of when he flew the Confederate flag and did a few other things just to annoy the dead man. I don't remember if he made any remark. Probably just kept his mouth shut.

When the idiot came back, the man that had been holding my hand left because he couldn't be in the same room with the idiot. I would have left, too, had my husband had his say. He was feeling guilt for not having pushed more that the police be called.

When the meeting was over, a woman came over and thanked me for having the courage to speak up like I did. Told her I didn't exactly know why the man sets me on edge so. Her answer was so simple! "Maybe because you have a high sense of integrity and you can't stand hypocrecy." So simple! Yes! She was right on!

At any rate, those of us who were there left with the intention of creating a better sense of community within the mobile home park.

I'm feeling much better but I still get short spurts of time that I just want to scream and cry.

OH!! I did tell the grief counselor that I have PTSD from having nursed my mom for six months through her strokes. She validated my feelings and said she could see why I am having a tough time with Bill's passing. She also explained the difference between expecting a death in the long run and the method and suddeness of Bill's death. That not only made sense but it helped me as well as the man that was rubbing my back because he's lost two wives to cancer.

I hope all of us can put this to rest when Bill is layed to rest in a Veteran's Cemetary close by. He was a fighter pilot in WWII. His jazz buddies will be playing taps for him.