I needed last night. I needed to cry and I needed to remember and I needed to miss him.
I finally fell asleep around 2 am. Woke up at seven, showered and drove up to go to church with my mom. You see, today was the first Sunday she decided to go back to church since my stepfather died three months ago. I needed to be there to hold her hand, convince her not to make a spectical of herself, cry, pray and listen. I’m glad I was there. She managed very well considering it ended up being communion Sunday and the three of us always did that as a family.
There is a gaping hole in our family with my stepfather being gone. He really was a good sweet guy who loved my mother with everything in him.
After church I drove to Ripley to have lunch with my sister. She begins another school year and I get to see her less and less now. After our fun visit I drove to see my father and his wife for just a bit. All in all it was a wonder Sunday, given the tears.
I only told one friend of my breakdown last night. She listened and had wonderful advice. She said, “That was a good thing. Now you can grieve the loss and begin to move on, while before you were still too angry.”
But I’m still angry.
I feel relieved to be five months in.
But sad and angry still.
It’s a Sunday night and I’m normally sound asleep at this hour. I find myself dreading the morning and dreading the week. I’m no longer crying; not sad in the moment. I just can’t settle my mind enough to turn it off.