I’m wondering if I should be a little more than concerned about how my brain is working or should I say not working these days.
I grasp for the names of objects, people, places.
I play all these word connect games on my phone because it’s supposed to help the mind stay sharp.
The last thing my mind feels is sharp. Drained? Yes. Sharp, no.
I’m sure this is considered “normal” in my current situation.
The thing about the death of a child, especially the senseless act of violence is that the consequences are so far reaching for those of us left behind processing and dealing with the aftermath.
It’s nauseating.
It’s exhausting.
I can’t escape it.
I try to do what I did before this life altering, horrific chapter in the book of my life and it takes every ounce of energy.
I push through and try to be me, the before me,but I don’t even really know who that is.
I still have other children who I am thankful for and who still need a mother and a grandmother.
I am still responsible for dropping my grandson off with his other grandparents for the weekend.
Telling my daughter she can sleepover at a friends house,even though I love when she’s at home.
Listening to how my 16 year son scored in the CrossFit open workout today.
Trying to figure out how to get my 19 year old son from Philadelphia, back home before he moves to California.
The most conversation I had with my husband is confirming that the trash truck came and took our trash. Our restaurant order is under our name, not a number and I’m really sorry but I hit the gas instead of the breaks when I pulled into the garage. Now I’ve ruined the wall and it has to be repaired. One more thing he has to fix.
Everyday occurrences that bring me to the verge of tears and try the patience of those around me.
This is hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to face and I’m tired. My soul is tired. I hope the quote below is true.