After not setting foot in the KH for over a year, I decided to go last night. Mostly because my 7 yr old BEGGED me. God it was horrible. Here I was, attending a supposedly solemn event that emotionally I've held dear to my heart for 36 of my 37 years, with the ghostly presence of my family life of the past 12 years (I went with the soon-to-be ex wife) hovering near me, seeing those who used to be dear friends, almost family, shaking their heads, silently clucking their tongues, and whispering quietly to each other other, "how sad, how sad".
It made me want to throw up.