It's been a week. A week. A week.
I wasn't so sure I'd make it through that first day.
And now it's been 7.
Are you sensing my air of disbelief? Good.
I thought those first days would never end. Between all the decisions we had to make so quickly, and the mental fog that followed, it seemed there would never be a "normal" day again.
And here it is, a week later, and there is starting to be some semblance of normal.
But even with the normal, I doubt things will ever be the same.
6 comments:
I have sat here and tried to write some profound, meaningful comment. I have also deleted it. Type, type...Delete, delete. So I'll just say I'm thinking of you all and hoping your finding ways to keep moving forward. It's all you can do. One day at a time.
Noteable: How about throwing pitchers full of ICE COLD water over the shower curtain in the downstairs bathroom. Ice water on the unsuspecting person soaking in a warm shower. Man a scream is worth a thousand words. I wonder.. who got the brunt of the ice cold water tricks.
I don't know you, I found your Blog thru a friend. I just want to tell you how sorry I am for your loss.
Hang in there and remember:
"When you feel like you're at the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on!"
Good luck!
XoXoXo, A fellow Blogger (Jadie)
Ut was so good to see you all this week. Hope youre hanging in there.
Things will never be the same, but normal will take on a new meaning.
I have had a number of family members, friends and acquaintances die this past year. It started feeling like a deluge at one point.
But at one funeral service, a woman I had ridden to the graveside with said, "And now the family will have to construct a new normal. And when that comes, there will be a measure of peace."
I thought it sounded pretty profound.
But we will still keep you in our prayers so you won't feel so alone on this journey.
Dear family: No, you don't know me (I found you through Nurse Heidi); however, you are experiencing something I experienced not quite two years ago. I lost my dear husband to pancreatic cancer on November 16, 2006. And you are correct . . . CANCER SUCKS! What I've found (and I don't claim to be expert in any facet of this life) is that you find your "new normal". It takes a while and some days are still colored by grief and what ifs. Just know that you are "normal", whatever that is, in how you deal with the emotional overload you've experienced. I'm finally to the point where I can talk about our family's experience without melting into tears, at least most of the time. Best wishes to you and your family. Jerri Emory
I awoke this morning with one of the same thoughts as I have had every single day since Paula left this Earth.....it has been a few weeks and I think about her every single day and there is certainly a feeling that things ARE different than when she was here. Simply put, the space is different without her. We barely knew each other, as my sister married into this amazing family. Realizing this, I know you, her family, probably feel like life can't go on without her OR it shouldn't. Why can't life just stop, or at least slow down, so there is time to heal? Why can't we wear around t-shirts that say, "Please be gentle, I am hurting and need your patience." As life moves along, faster than ever, remember that there are hundreds, thousands, of people just like me who are thinking about Paula and her family every single day. Use this energy and these thoughts to help you get through life, until you find a new "normal." Alan and I love you all!
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