Yesterday I saw my counselor. She asked how I was, and I said, "I'm good." "I can tell, she said," your energy is totally different today."
I've been dragging in there. I've been dragging everywhere. I've been getting out of bed, no problem, but having a real problem STAYING out of it. Daily naps, some of which lasted all day and none of which interfered with a full night's sleep. It's been like that.
This past weekend I had a "first" - went to visit Mom for the first time since Dad died and we had his funeral. It was "the new normal." Instead of being with both of them, it was about her. Instead of staying at his apartment, I stayed at my sister's home (she is out of town right now). (I missed seeing my sister but her lovely home was beautifully peaceful.)
On the way there I had a little pity party when I considered that, not only would Daddy not be there, but his home would not, either; and in a way, I no longer have a home - the home that my parents have always made for me for my whole life. No matter where they lived, their house was home in a way. I could walk in there and kick off my shoes, and be listened to with an attention that I will find no where else in life.
(Of course, I have a beautiful and historic house as my home for 18 years now, and a husband I adore. It's not the same thing.)
(Of course, I have my Mom and her room in the nursing home. My heart is there. But it's also not the same thing.)
How lucky am I to get to be 54 years old before this particular grief comes my way?
I still feel in some ways that I'm swimming through quicksand. As a 9 on the Enneagram, I get stuck easily and stasis is a very easy spot for me to rest in. So I'm working on some decluttering in a purposeful way, and the more productive doing I accomplish, the better it gets.
More news at 9.
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