I have several blogs written that I haven't posted yet. I have been writing. I will post them. I just have to chew on them a bit. I will say that the journaling of memories of my beloved father has been a bit of comfort. I find myself feeling somewhat normal during the day and when I'm busy. But at night, when all is still, it's something else. I have stopped the shedding of daily tears. I can talk about him without that tightness and lack of air. But at night...that's something else entirely.
My friend asked me today, "when are you going to allow yourself to mourn?" What? You mean there's more? Strange dreams, restless sleep, a constant gnawing that I have forgotten something? Where has my "normal" gone? I left the water running at work today. I walked out of the dispensary. Several people were there. I felt their eyes on me and I stopped. When I turned to find out why all had gone quiet - odd thing for a bunch of hair dressers - when I noticed the water. I went back, turned it off, and left the room. They all think I was just so busy, or had something on my mind. A couple of them asked me. "What's going on? You seem a little off lately." Oh? hmmm...I hadn't noticed.
It's not like I am constantly thinking about my dad's passing. Leaving me here to fend for myself with my mother. My mother and my son, incidentally, had a falling out the day after the funeral. There will be no reconciliation. The words exchanged were more hurtful than usual. That weighs heavy on me. It would break Papa's heart. He loved his family very much. Even those that made love a difficult task.
Strange that I felt the need to come share here in the wee hours with you tonight. I don't do so easily or elsewhere. I have managed to turn on the waterworks again, for the first time in several weeks, so I will close now. Thanks for listening.