Reality sets in

I had a rough morning. 

There was so much good. I heard happy sounds in the early morning- and found the grandkids happily snuggling together. No wake up tears, just grins and giggles. We had a good morning together.

I would love to share it with Ken. 

The kids were paging through the pictures on my phone, Live Photos of Ken with Matan, grinning. 

I ached. The tears kept welling up- not when the kids were looking, mostly. 

After the school drop off I drove for a while, and picked up drive through breakfast, and found someplace to park, and ate and cried. 

And ached.

When I'm busy, I am distracted for a while. Recently, the distraction is not enough. 

I haven't had break-down melt-down storms of tears. I wonder if I will, or if I will just keep feeling this intensifying ache.

I ache. 

Tears well up and leak.

I ache. Often in my chest- heart-ache, ache in my lungs so I have to remember to breathe. Sometimes in my stomach, my gut clenching.

I ache. I hurt. 

My dad told it would come in waves, and it does, waves and storm surges. More often now, wave upon wave.

I am not sure what to do. I guess, one thing is to make that appointment with the therapist. Maybe there are suggestions that will help.

Help - I need help. The one who always helped me is gone. 

It helps when I help- so being here, helping with the grandkids, has helped. 

I miss him. I miss the way his eyes lit up every time he saw me. I miss kisses and hugs and more. I miss laughing with him. I miss every silly little thing- had to have a napkin, so neat with his mustache and beard. Always checking the door was locked, sometimes twice or three times. Choosing the pie crust cookie that had almost no sprinkles of cinnamon sugar.

His response whenever I referenced how I looked:

Gorgeous. You're gorgeous.

I miss him when I have to look at the news- he would be with me in having such complex and painful reactions to all that is happening.

He would be loving all the pictures I would send of the grandkids. 

The grandkids are our future. The children all over the world are the future- if we can have a future.

I MISS HIM.

I'm holding it together, mostly. Trying to drink enough water. Trying to get enough sleep.

One night I'm up too late, getting up the next morning too early. The next night I'm in bed much earlier, but not sleeping.

I am literally at a loss. This loss is coloring all of my days, all of my plans. The world is in peril, I know it, I try to take it in, but I am overwhelmed by my personal loss. 

Today is a hard day, harder than yesterday. Will tomorrow be harder still? Will the next day be harder than that?

Who knows? 

I feel paralyzed, like I can't plan anything. I need to set meeting times with students, plan when to meet with friends, plan how to take care of the next details of life: paying bills, buying dog food, clearing out some drawers and closets.

I have no initiative. I am so tired.

Exhausted.