It will be 17 months on the 29th of this month. I’ve had to deal with a lot of the big things that changed after Kevin died. Looking after the house on my own, paying the bills, facing everyday without him. Unavoidable, unrelenting reality. You can’t not face it and still be considered sane.
Thus, over the course of time, most everyday things go back to a state of routine. Newly created out of necessity, but still a state of routine. Sometimes there is a flash of sadness, anger or resentment about it, especially when something isn’t going right, but overall, it becomes just the way it is.
Always, though, there are those things that come out of nowhere. Unprepared, they are like a sucker punch, you just didn’t see it coming. It’s okay when you are alone or out of public sight, but when it happens at work, or someplace public, it is just darn awkward.
This week a coworker returned to the workplace after having been off due to the death of an aged parent. Sorrow is still sorrow and I know that, but the selfish side of me is bitter, and I feel ripped off. I don’t begrudge the sorrow of my coworker, I just hate the unfairness of it all, why does one person live to a ripe old age and not another? The force of my emotion surprised me. I am embarrassed that I can’t express my sympathy and ashamed that I feel the way I do.
It’s these types of things that make me realize that, although on the outside I may appeared healed and on the path to closure, actually I’m still far, far away from the even keel I so want. I want my composure back, securely fitted, so that it doesn’t slip off revealing anything raw or weak or ugly. When things are going along smoothly, without any ripples, I almost believe I am there. Then, it just takes one little thing, and that little thing can come from just about any direction.