Today marks one month since my father died. So much has happened in one month, yet it seems like no time has passed at all.
It’s often said, everyone deals with grief differently. It’s something people say, perhaps not knowing how true it is. Grief can make you distant from familiar comforts. Nothing feels normal, but normal is all you really want. Therefore, when the truth sets in – that nothing will ever be normal again – it’s unsettling.
I try to focus on functioning, but even that has no meaning. What does functioning look like or feel like? Damned if I know. So, I just take the sage advice of Pat Summit, “Left foot, right foot, breathe.”