Time keeps passing. I keep taking what seems like terribly small steps ahead into my future. My family and friends continue to support me in so many ways and I am filled with humbleness and gratitude for the love they show towards me. My nights are not empty and alone because of them. I am able to talk, cry and share my concerns and voice my confusion in the comfort of their love and presence. My gardens are turned under because of them. My financial needs are not an immediate concern because of them. I am getting through this all because of them.
My mind still roils in confusion much of the time. Scattered thoughts, a feeling of being disconnected, loose ends and lack of focus are commonplace. I eagerly await a time when I am more focused, have more intention than just getting through an hour, a day or a week. Yet time keeps passing and I know that I am making some progress. I still have not picked up my crochet or read a book or created something beautiful for the simple pleasure of the act itself. I will eventually. I have hope, in fact moments of extreme optimism, sometimes for a couple of days at a time. I take one step forward and often two steps back. I hate that the process of grief is long and unpredictable. I have to accept that this experience and this process is simply what it is and is something that I must go through. I can't fix it, make it disappear or rush it. It is frustrating, maddening at times and is something that challenges my very essence.