All the little things

Memory is a harsh and unwielding thing. One minute a warm comfort and the next a piercing pain. Unpredictable. Unexpected. Uncontrollable. I never knew how unstable grieving is - so much lurching, so much renewed pain and doubt. 

Triggers are everywhere. Today it was as I battled to get out of bed, remembering a game we played to help face the day ahead. Today it was a gentle conversation with a student. Today it was angelic female vocals in a song. Today it was a tearful conversation with a colleague. Today it was forgetting my gloves. Today it was the taste of a mouthful of tea that rocketed me back to our couch. That’s just one day and it’s not even through. 

So much of the patchwork of my life has been tenderly knitted with one person and has now unraveled/is unravelling/will unravel.  And while that’s a scary thought it’s part of it all, another challenge I didn’t ask for but am facing head on.

Into the breach, as usual. Who ever knew my normal would be like this...