July 26, 2022: Free Association Ramblings
It's been 18 days since I last spoke with my mom.
It's been 17 days since I last held my mom's hand.
It's been 10 days since the graveside service.
It's been one week since the church service.
There are still things I need to do.
I don't know how to feel.
This whole this surreal, yet real. I can't seem to wrap my head around everything.
I am trying to move forward. To keep my family moving forward. There is work for me. There is work for my son. There is a driver's test looming around the corner. (What if he doesn't pass? How will we deal with that? What if he passes? How will we deal with that?) School will start sooner than anyone expects. We need to look at colleges. We need to figure out how to pay for college. There will be applications and forms; all confusing I am sure. Everything is...overwhelming
I am unfocused. I move from task to task with no sense of purpose. I feel like I should be writing something here and I don't know what to write. But I want to write so here it is... (Feel free to stop reading if this is just too dull for you...it may be too dull for me.)
I am tired, but not tired. Just kind of worn. However, fully capable of doing whatever needs to be done. Although I haven't written all the thank you notes that I should have. Can I put a blanket "Thank You" here? Is that good? I know it's not what etiquette would dictate, but...
Am I grieving? I don't know. What does grief feel like? What does it look like? I don't feel profound sadness. Am I depressed? I don't think I am. But what does it feel like; what does it look like?
Is this what grief feels like? Do I even know what grief is?
What did I feel like when my brother died ten years ago? I can't remember. I only remember getting my parents through it. I remember getting through...
My mom kept a pseudo-diary from 2006- 2016, but wrote infrequently, sometimes years went by without an entry and in a 100 page wide ruled composition book maybe only 60 pages are filled during the 10 year period. I wish she had written more, but I am grateful for what I have. Three months after my brother died she wrote: "I was finally able to really cry for John this morning. I feel like I saw him (just a shadow) going into his room. Once I started crying I couldn't stop."
Maybe that will be me too? I haven't really cried. But I cried before she died; I broke down before and then I picked myself up and moved ahead because that's what I do.
Maybe that's just how I handle things. I take things as they come day by day and move forward. When and if I have the overwhelming urge to cry, I will do just that. (What else can I do?)