Day 17. Grief is everywhere.

There is no respite. There are reminders in the mailbox, in the car sitting in the drive, in her bedroom which I sorted through today, in the laundry room where today I finally folded the nightgowns she wore last. They are in the back of my car because I have to drop off her clothes at the thrift store. They are in my garden which we planned together. They are fucking everywhere.

There is comfort in that. I get to have that closeness yet at the same time I get to feel that pain. Yin/yang. Heaviness. I haven't written since Tuesday. I just wasn't moved to. I was overwhelmed with work stress and just couldn't handle facing sadness. I didn't want to so I shelved it.

Grief is in one of my closer girlfriend's life because her mom was diagnosed shortly after my mom was with stage 4 bladder cancer. Immunotherapy is helping her, thank goodness. I'm jealous of that. This week my friend was upset because her mom is losing her hair. It took all I had to not make a snarky remark about her still being alive. That's an ugly thought. I hugged my friend shortly after, knowing she was upset to see her mom sick and not wanting to be ugly. The hug helped because I know she feels awkward about it as well. I do rejoice in her mom's health.

My other friend's father is having major health challenges. He's had operations to stop internal bleeding, etc., etc. Not good. He's in his 80's as is her mom. I have to watch my boundaries somewhat, but this friend was so wonderful to me, has been so supportive. I find texting is much easier than talking because at least I can make sure with texting that my words are supportive "enough".

There was a time when I was feeling a bit separate from what was going down with mom during her illness. Or maybe a bit before that, when she was ailing but we weren't sure what it was. Probably for 6-8 months she had weird stomach stuff and tiredness and other symptoms that now we know pointed to the cancer growing. I was growing weary of the responsibility. I haven't admitted that to anyone. But it's true. I remember thinking that life would be different when she passed, that I would have more time. This feeling flitted through, not staying for a long while and even when she was sick only at the very last few days did I hope that she didn't have long (because she was unconscious and dragging it out was horrendous). I have some guilt over those old thoughts. I know, I know.  They are normal. But they're ugly to me and right now it bothers me.

I didn't know how much I would miss her. Someone close to me told me I'd be most hurt by the silence that would come in her absence. He was right. It's not like I'm in emotional turmoil, it's simply always there. Always.