I'm doing ok.
I'm trying to do ok.
I'm trying to enjoy the summer that is left with the kids.
This has all taken a toll on them too. I know that.
Early on in the summer they agreed to forgo all of the summer activities they had just begun to enjoy...swimming, golf, tennis, play dates at the park, so that I could spend as much time as possible with my mom.
I have incredibly loving children.
They saw me hurting, and struggling over how to juggle everything... I think it was Caroline that said "let's just move to the cottage for the summer!"
I am so grateful.
The last few weeks, I've tried to get our daily summer routine to include fun stuff for us to do together. Taking walks to the park, going to the zoo, or the pool...
But it's not easy.
I'm not the mom I usually am. But I'm trying.
I have a picture of my mom next to the seat in my car. It was the picture we gave to the funeral home to see what her typical hair and makeup looked like.
It's a beautiful picture of her. That somehow ended up in my car.
I can't bare to remove it.
Every time I'm driving, I look over and see her beautiful smile.
It makes me smile.
Then flashes of memories...and a huge lump in my throat. Pain in my heart. My eyes well up with tears. If I'm alone in the car I let them fall.
I miss her.
Maybe it would be easier if I just took the photo out...
but I don't want it to be easy.
I don't want to forget.
On the other hand I don't want to let grief take over my life either.
When the kids are around me, I can't help but laugh and smile. They are so full of life and love. They fill me up. One smile, one hug, one "I love you" at a time.
This is hard stuff. Losing a parent is hopefully the hardest thing I'll have to experience in my life.
I'm lucky to have an incredibly supportive husband. Who's allowing me the time and space to figure out this whole grief process at a pace I can handle. And who's willing to hold me up, when I feel like I can't go on. Who is so kindly tolerating all of the 15,000 projects I've started around the house in order to keep busy, even if it means a seemingly endless 'To Do List' for him!
My loving friends, who even though there's nothing they can say to ease the pain, they're still here. With a hug, a card, a phone call.
It all helps.
I'm getting there. One day at a time.