Which to bury--Us or the Hatchet?

I just woke up and I looked over at my side table drawer and the candle from last night was still there. It was not burning still, but it remained a little liquified, on top of most of a solidified wax. It was strange, I thought, as I picked it up and some of the wax seeped through holes in the top and dripped when I tilted it.
I put it down when it reminded me of blood, realizing I still had that feeling of winter when I got up, and went to grab the tissue box which always hangs out on my kitchen's ledge. It won't be there in a few weeks.
My glands are big, my chest feels heavy, and my nose is burning, just like one of the stove tops in that same kitchen, preparing my macaroni and cheese for this late lunch of mine.
Somehow through the craziness of my jumbled mind this morning, I managed to put that pot of water on the burner, but I can't remember when I had done it. I'm glad it's not important.
My sleep was not very good last night, as I woke up several times to either check the time or, pathetically, check to see if I had any form of message on any form of electronics; I was not that tired at all. A few dreams actually woke me up too which is odd for me because I never dream; they were really frightening dreams too. I am pretty sure they occured because I went to sleep after waking up once in a daze thinking about my mom, and how much I really do actually miss her. Sigh...
My Grandparents were there in my mind and I also saw myself, standing on a long platform of cement which was connected to this bricked building somewhere along an unpaved, dirt road. My heart started to beat faster and I saw one of my Grandpa's, but not the one I usually see; it was my father's Dad. I was happy to see him anyway, despite the fact that I didn't really know him, at all. I had lost my other one anyway...without even saying goodbye.
I hope my mom comes around one of these days...