I'm thinking of my friend J today. She's in London and has just lost a family member back here in NZ. That is really, really balls J and I'm so very sorry. Not only does she have to contend with grief and loss, but she's geographically and temporally separated from her family back in New Zealand. I wish I could be there with her.
You know, you just truck along, doing what you do (in my case inhaling potato chips and spilling crumbs in my keyboard) and then major life events happen and you wonder how you managed before, or will go back to normal after. I don't think I'll ever feel again the way I did on my wedding day, graduations, house-purchase day, the day I received a call from the police about my grandmother ... and so on. There will be big, different moments to come - but those that have been already were wonderful or terrible moments when I knew something big had happened, but I couldn't wrap my head around the scale of it. My reaction is to pull a blanket of normalcy over my head, dropping into routine as salve to the tears exposed by the life event. The cocoon is warm, but there's a lot of thinking going on inside.
Anyway. J, I am so very sorry for your loss. You're on my mind.
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