58 days…

All the practical things are OK, but emotionally I’m a wreck.

I dreamed you came home last night.  You showed me where the scars on your face and neck had healed and you were well, but had to go somewhere and I couldn’t stop you.  You wouldn’t stay with me.

I woke up sad.

I was  sad and tired all day.

I think I’m coming down with the cold that the kids have had.  I had half a glass of wine with dinner and I’m about to fall asleep in my chair.

This sadness seems to be endless.  I know people think I’m strong for being able to get out of bed and get us all to school every day but sometimes I wonder if the lady who stayed in bed for the first three months had a better idea – grieve fully and deeply and then start to emerge instead of this endless sea of keeping life together but feeling like the world has ended.

I cry in the shower.  I cry in the car. I cry here at the computer.  I cry in church.  I cry when somebody is nice to me.

Memory of the day:

When K was about 2 and H was on the way, you turned two pine packing cases into the most gorgeous kid’s cubby house for K (&H).  It was a proper little house with windows and a door and a pitched roof with a chimney.  You used some old roofing iron to make it waterproof and built a little verandah at the front.  It was just beautiful and only cost us the nails and screws you used to put it together.

You had an awesome talent for turning shit into champagne.

I miss you babe