We all know that, no matter what happens, life goes on. Sometimes it doesn't seem right that it does continue after a terrible loss, but we know that we must soldier on.
It is now "last month" that my husband Pete died, on January 20. My daughter returned to work today, my son went back to his home. I continue to wrestle with the depressing details of death--the bank, the insurances, the memorial service, the continuing phone calls and notifications. I realize that this is a stage of activity that must occur, and that it serves the useful purpose of distracting me from the enormity of my loss. When life quiets down again, I know that the going will get really tough for me.
For now, Pete is still in the present tense. All the many chores, errands, and actions that surround his passing involve him. It's as though the world is buzzing around him as the epicenter. When all the red tape has been unraveled and put to rest along with Pete, the world will have moved on and I will be left to face my future without him.
Pete was never much for worrying. His motto always was that "things work out." I suppose he was right; things do, in time, work out. Life will go on. But it will take me the rest of my life to work out Pete being gone.
