People keep asking me how I'm doing. And I appreciate that. I appreciate the concern and the care. I just don't know what to say. I'm all right -- I get out of bed every day and I get showered and dressed in clean clothes. I go to work and I actually accomplish things -- I do my job. I've been doing better at making dinners. I'm eating. Sleeping isn't great, but that's not news.
The thing I can tell you about the pain of losing a parent is the acute sense of grief does ease with time. It gets to the point where you can acknowledge out loud, even to people you hardly know, that your mom passed away, and that, yes, your dad died a few years ago. But the fundamental hole in your heart does not go away, and it's another level of depth, of sadness, once you're an orphan.
Even there, I know I have been fortunate. I know people who lost both their parents when they were much, much younger than I am -- people for whom "orphan" was really true in a more fundamental way.
So here I am. I get through the days and sometimes I smile and Dean makes me laugh pretty regularly. Just figuring out what comes next, and how I get there.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to catch up on all the things I've let slip. I started falling behind in December, to be honest, and am not quite out of that hole yet. I'm trying also to clean up and clean out stuff in the house.
Can you blame me, really, for culling a bunch of scraps to make this jacket? Do you dare me, actually, to wear it out in public?