Suspended Animation

Cecil's wallet and phone sit on his nightstand. His watch and wedding ring on his desk. His clothes hang in the closet, and rest neatly in dresser drawers. The urn with his ashes sits by the fireplace, next to Beaux and Scarlett's ashes, and right above Burt's on the hearth. I know the ashes are permanent, but the other things are now temporary.

Even though I know he is gone and never coming back, I can't move his things just yet. That is too big of a climb, too hard of a task.

My daughter said to me one day, "You're never going to touch his desk, are you?" And I answered honestly that I don't know.

Grief is exhausting. This morning, I was just too tired to get up and get after a list of things like I usually do. I stayed in bed for a while, and then did some puzzles and wasted time with Deuce on my lap. I didn't feed the dogs until after eight-thirty.

I stopped running long enough for grief to catch me. Brushing my teeth with tears rolling down my face and snot dripping from my nose. The tears don't help.

I know there is no way to fix this, I must travel with my grief and experience it as it comes. One day at a time, one moment at a time when the days are too hard.