3 months to the day, time marches on

Hi –

It’s been 3 months to the day.

I was talking to some people today about this fact. They were saying how proud they were of how I’m doing. It’s an interesting statement if you ask me. This is not something that right now I would want to be praised for. The things I’ve done in the last 3 months are not necessarily things I would have done otherwise.

If I try to think back to how I would have reacted to something like this, I’m confident it would have been completely different. First off, I’m pretty sure I would have thought I would have picked up my life and moved back home to the house to be with Dad. I would have assumed it would be my gut reaction. I’m nowhere near that at the moment. I’m definitely all about moving to be closer to him and Grandma, but not back home. I don’t think it would be good for him or me if I were being really honest with myself. I think we would find ourselves caught in this unhealthy situation of being each other’s crutch. Instead of finding our way back to father and daughter.

I’m also pretty confident I would have expected to be a complete mess, and yet I’m the farthest thing from it. Which I’m sure is both good and bad. As Judith would say I'm ‘detached.’

I’m living the whole ‘fake it, till you make it’ concept. And I’ve found in recent days and weeks that not only have I ‘made it,’ but I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. The past two weeks at work have been completely insane. I’m 150% over worked, with things falling through the cracks because of how under staffed we are, and I love every minute of it. I could easily become a workaholic. You get so consumed by your to do list and next task, that you forget about the current state of your life. It’s actually quite nice.

It’s now 11:30 pm 3 months later. I’m here in the dark of my room in NYC with the TV on mute typing this up. The only sounds are the sirens outside, and the click of my fingers on the keyboard. It’s a bit relaxing, and a bit over whelming. My thoughts are moving much faster than my fingers could ever hope to keep up with. For the moment my head is quiet. The grief and intense feelings of missing you still come over me in waves. They roll in, and sometimes quickly roll back out. Other times it lingers holding onto the corners of my mind and I catch myself staring off into space. When they finally retreat, I think I should call Randi or Rab. It’s been more days than I would like since I've talked to either of them last. I never call though and I can never explain why I don’t because I'm not sure of the reason myself. Whatever stops me from calling them is the same thing that stops me from calling Grandma or Diane. Maybe in some way that only I understand by not calling them I give off the vibe that I’m OK. And if I don’t call, and don’t talk, then I can pretend they are OK too.

The truth is none of us are OK. We are all just here. Dealing. 3 months later. Having our good moments and our bad. Wanting to share them with someone else, but too stuck in ourselves at the moment.

I’m going to go to sleep now. Dream away this day, and wake up when it’s been 3 months plus 1 day.

Love you forever, miss you always.

Rachel

Time heals

Time heals

Time heals all wounds

But how much time

Can you afford to lose