I've spent the afternoon sitting on the sand, on one if those rare Sydney summer afternoons when the nor-easter isn't howling and half the city isn't at the beach. The old cliche of the ocean healing has never been more true for me than it has been the last month. Sydney's unpredictable thunderstormy weather has put a stop to that this week, and down has gone my mood.
Today I was back in the water. Workday washed away, tears hidden when they spring, my mind unable to think of anything other than ducking, breathing.
Well meaning advice has floated past me. I nod, offer a token smile on one side, it's easier to end the conversation this way. I don't know what moving on or time healing means yet. I know it will happen and it can't be far away. Yet I don't want it. I want the memories strong and I torture myself with what ifs. I don't want to get used to it but I don't want the shock when I remember, because I forget. The joy and the good memories creep in every now and then. This comes as a surprise and I hold onto them when they do.
I have kept my 'work face' on pretty well. I've been surrounded by so much kindness. I've been shielded from dickheads, cried with a senior manager over the years old loss of his dog, been covered for on the times the tears just didn't stop. Without any fanfare, someone who I didn't expect to gave me a key ring with Marcel's picture on it. She wrote me the loveliest note, telling me that when she lost her dad and everyone moved on she was afraid she'd forget him. I can't imagine, but I can.
Every morning I am still bolt upright at 530. I wonder how long it will take my body clock to realise I don't need to be up. I've gone to morning gym classes, but getting home after Mr C has gone to works to an empty, silent house, is worse than staring at the ceiling in the dark. I can't walk without him, what's the point? I have had a wake up call to start looking after myself properly, stress does not do very nice things to the human body. The physical and the emotional can't fall down at the same time.
I'm not myself and won't be again. I feel like a different person and my life feels completely not mine.
I have started booking us a trip next year. Something I should be over the top excited for just feels like something to do to fill my days. For this I feel ungrateful. I have filled every spare minute with so many plans, anything to not have time to dwell, to be always on the move.
I know all of this will change and will keep on changing. Everything will keep on changing.