A Bewitchingly Ordinary Life!

It's been 436 days since Eric passed away.  One year and two months.  62 weeks and 1 day.  To be honest, I'm not sure some days how we got this far.  A part of me "knows" but a part of me does not. In those early days and weeks, two pieces of advice became a profound stepping stone on this journey. First, do not make any major decisions during the first year of losing a loved one. The second was "do the next thing".   I remember hearing the first one from the priest at my local Parish.  Trust me, I wanted to take my boys and run away.  To where?  I don't know.  I felt like I wanted to run and run and run.  I wanted to crawl out of my skin.  I wanted to be anywhere but here (then, in that present moment). The second piece of advice I heard at a grief support group.  One of the lovely people there was recounting the beginning days for herself and how she had heard that advice.  "Do the next thing".  If that next thing was to brush your teeth, the

 May 20th was 9 months.   Nine months that you've been gone.  It seems like a lifetime ago on some days.  On other days, it seems as if it was only yesterday. The passage of time brings distance between the tragedy and daily living. It does not bring comfort or healing.  Time doesn't heal all wounds.  I hate that cliche.   It doesn't make it easier to deal with.  Time doesn't do anything really, except march on. Ultimately, as time moves on, we feel left behind. Time doesn't help at all.  I think we've learned to compartmentalize.   This is work.  This is a compartment.  I have X.Y,Z to acccomplish.  I put a smile on.  I pep myself up.  I go on. This is school.  The boys have a subject to do.  They do X,Y,Z.  They put a smile on their face.  They pep themselves up. This is dinner time. This is TV time. This is grocery shopping time. This is laundry time. This is housecleaning time. This is exercise time. This is grieving time. Compartments help.  I don't bel