Morning sadness

I went to sleep upset; I found out yesterday that a very cool, funny and sweet guy I knew passed away - about a year ago. I had sent him an email about 6 months ago; he is someone I thought of often. When his email kicked back to me I was worried. My worry was founded, but delayed. I pulled up some of our emails this morning; he cracked me up, really. We had an easy, smart banter, and that gets rarer as people get stupider. I was doubly saddened while in my inbox because I received an email this morning notifying me that the online guestbook created for my late sister will be coming down next week. I was the only one who signed it, so it seems senseless to pay to keep it going. I dunno.
My dreams were rather bland, but thankfully not utterly depressing:

Bland dream #1: I have several blogs. Blog about dreams, blog about poetry. All kinds of crap. Nothing solid stood out to me.

In dream #2, I am in my house with wet hair and a towel wrapped around me. There is a knock at the door and a hulking shadow casts itself in our doorway. I try to sneek a peak from a nearby window, but can see nothing. It isn't until the person is walking away, down the sidewalk, that I realize it is the mailman: a white, younish, hulking dude. He's carrying an (extremely) oversized soft, stuffed football. I call out to him, but he tells me it's too late. Moments later another mailman appears to be moving in my direction with the football. This guy is younger and black - the kind of black skin that looks like a chocolate pool. His smile is broad, as are his shoulders. While he hands off the football to me, he is launching some boyish air-toy to another, unseen boy/guy.

Dream 3 was a bit darker. I am in an old church, someone is dead, or is already dead. I am apparently working with police on the case. There are children throughout the church. I am moving throughout, not certain where I fit in the scene. I find myself kneeling in a pew, with my slate rosaries, crying softly. There is a back room, that seems more like a coat room (old-school, like those in older elementary schools), I am there reviewing information with a cop-like figure. There is nothing concrete that comes to me.