Managing Expectations

Tonight, I caught myself in one of those situations that was absurd, yet completely typical.

Crying while remembering Cory?  I do it all the time.  Sometimes I start crying and then get caught up in something else...my phone beeps or the dog barks to be let in or Jake calls my name.  Tonight, all three happened, and I was well into putting Winston into his safety harness with Jake, playing ventriloquist in my most convincing seven month old puppy voice before I felt the tears were still on my face, having grown cold there.

Jake didn't notice, and I rather suspect that I've cried so much since the death of his sister, he considers it my baseline behavior.  What struck me was that I could be engaged with Jake, quite properly, but still aching so much that the tears came and continued, whether I was aware of them or not.

That is what it is to bury your child.  I get dressed and pour juice and pay bills and do laundry and drive and feed pets and joke with my son.  I work and sleep and argue with my husband.  I watch movies and laugh and read and draw.  I do it all while watching that wretched sheet float down over her body.  I do it all while watching them lower her coffin into the ground.  It's not the easiest multi-tasking, let me tell you.  But I do it.  I hate it.  But I do it.

Moving forward is staying alive.  Full stop.