At this point its a day-by-day thing. I got through today. I went to the doctor and we agreed that I’m doing better. She thought it was wonderful that I had turned my finances over to my brother and othermother and I have to agree. I feel much less stressed already. I know its not a forever thing and that at some point I’ll have to retake the reins but for now it works.
Peter is trying on his shirt and tie for tomorrow. We have to go first thing in the a.m. and pick up his pants from the drycleaners. Unfortunately, his new coat won’t be ready. We’ll have to stop and pick up something warm for him to wear on the way to King George. Nothing ever goes as smoothly as it should.
I’m anxious about tomorrow. At this point I just want it to be over. I don’t believe that the grieving really starts until the funeral is over and everyone goes home and tries to resume their lives. That is when you start to notice the differences, the changes. That is when it comes home to you that someone you trusted and loved and believed would live forever is gone.
I’m always anxious for the next step. I rush myself through things. I don’t like to muddle. Yet I always feel stuck. I am an oxymoronic enigma.
Favorite words: oxymoron; enigma…oh, and I didn’t use it in this post, but I like epiphany, too.