Reality

At some point I realize, I have to deal with this. 

When I read the words there is a distinct heaviness in my chest and breathing becomes difficult. 

The tingling comes back.

Today I saw a few patients that I saw at work that day.  It's a sick game your mind plays that says, Dad was still alive when I saw them.  I am not sure if that ever goes away.  I look every patient in the eye and try my best to continue to motivate, uplift, give hope, be a cheerleader.  

Yet, at the end of each day....I just go sit in my car and cry.

How do we do this?  How do we go about learning to live again?  How do you smile or laugh and not feel the weight of it?

We know without question what Dad would say.....life is for the living.....get out there and LIVE.

Memories seem to come to me in snippets, little vignettes of what once was.  

I find myself asking a lot of questions, for which there are no answers.  I just say them out loud and I don't think I truly expect anything out of it, other than just to get it out of my mouth.  

It's never really off my mind.... but at least it's out there.....

Chris and I will meet with a counselor tonight.  I really have no expectations, other than I know, that going and talking about Dad and having to say it out loud.....will cut me deep.  I guess maybe I just hope for a little guidance.  It sucks to be asking yourself, I wonder what Dad would say.  

But, I guess I will be saying this for the rest of my life.  

I try to trust that deep in my heart I know what he would have said....and if I close my eyes tight and try to feel it in my bones.....the answer has to be in there, somewhere.