After the services.

Another sucky part.

The dreaded week after.

NOW WHAT? How do we get back into the WORLD after THIS?

I went back to work that Monday and I cried at work, pretty much the entire day and all that week. I talked to many people who gave me lots of hugs and showed they cared about me. But I look back now and I CAN’T believe I showed up that week. The routine was only broken for a week when life was completely broken for the REST OF IT?

That is just so messed up.

I recently emailed my coworker who lost her son even younger, 24, of an overdose. This happened a month ago. She said she couldn’t get out of bed to go to work one day last week. HOW could ANYONE even EXPECT her to? She said she doesn’t feel like a mom anymore because he was her only child and now he’s gone. To feel normal again will NEVER happen. To feel happy again, depending on who you lost, may never happen again.

I remember Dad told me a story about his aunt or great aunt who left a cemetery and died in the car. Grandma Mary died two weeks after Pepsi was put down. Grandma Theresa died 6 months after Aunt Joy died. The heart is such a delicate organ.

At work that week, I couldn’t STOP thinking about Derek.

I wondered where he was.

What he was doing.

If he could see us?

Then I became obsessed with researching the medical side of things. OBSESSED. It kept me up at night, until about 1 or 2 a.m. I was working 5 days a week and I had a 4 month old. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep knowing his death was still a mystery. I thought I could figure it out. I thought it would give me some peace. It didn’t give me peace – it make me anxious. I thought I was going to be the next to die. I thought I had what he had. I convinced myself I wouldn’t live to see my girls get married and have kids of their own. I was spiraling out of control.