After a few good days, I’ve had the blahs today.
They are to be expected, the blahs.
On the one hand, I feel the relief that everyone says you feel. I have time to myself again, the stress of the uncertainty has gone, and I feel like I can start making decisions again. I feel freedom. On the other hand, that freedom has come at the highest price a little girl can pay.
And so, in a way, I’m rather relieved that the blahs are back. The good days were starting to be a little disconcerting.
Gawd, there’s no rules with this sort of malarky. It’s such an intensely personal thing, grief, isn’t it? I haven’t lost a parent (yet) but I can only think that there’s a part that recognises the loss as completely natural, yet still thinks it’s completely unfair (the little girl part?).
It’s a big openness at this point. Almost an empty-ness, but not quite. Kind of a holeyness.