I would like to write an update that would be meaningful, yet let people know how we are doing. The journal entries I have written so far end up being too personal and upsetting. Yet, how can I write about Lev's being gone without it being personal and upsetting.
Everyone wants to know how we are doing, yet I do not know myself. We are doing terribly. I am amazed at every day that somehow life goes on, somehow we continue.
It will be seven weeks this Friday, still no autopsy, still no reason why. I am hoping that somehow the autopsy will come with a reason why, with an explanation that makes sense and enables us to fix him and bring him back. Without that, it is useless. I still hope. I still wait for his return. I'm not sure how I would go on if I didn't have a little bit of hope that there has been some terrible mistake, that I am dreaming, or on some alternate life course. I am waiting to enter the other, correct path instead of this one where healthy kids wake up dying.
So, we go on. We eat, sleep, clean the house, walk the dog. I have started going back to work part time and it really helps me to have something else to focus on. Something clear cut, meaningful. Something that goes as expected. Tony's having more trouble getting in to work, being at home and needing to focus.
Jaal is very sad, of course, yet manages to take breaks from his grieving and have fun with friends: go to movies, kayaking, swimming. I am so glad that he is still able to enjoy life, and he is looking forward to Evergreen.
Tony and I like to walk. Preferably with Jaal. Sometimes I could just keep walking, and walking, and walking.
Our moods go up and down, but never far up. Often far down.
But a lot of the time is spent just going through the motions being really sad. I think you just go through the steps of life until those steps become your life again. Sometimes we seem okay, but it is quite superficial. One little peek inside, and it's a pretty dark place.
I miss him, and want him back so badly. It's so frustrating. I miss him so much, and I feel so badly that I couldn't help him.
So far it has not gotten better with time, but I know it is too early. I am more able to do other things, like some work, but then the grief comes up and grabs you to bring you back to that place that is more comfortable for the moment.
We are strong for Jaal. He needs us to be, so we are.
That's about it, I suppose.
Everyone wants to know how we are doing, yet I do not know myself. We are doing terribly. I am amazed at every day that somehow life goes on, somehow we continue.
It will be seven weeks this Friday, still no autopsy, still no reason why. I am hoping that somehow the autopsy will come with a reason why, with an explanation that makes sense and enables us to fix him and bring him back. Without that, it is useless. I still hope. I still wait for his return. I'm not sure how I would go on if I didn't have a little bit of hope that there has been some terrible mistake, that I am dreaming, or on some alternate life course. I am waiting to enter the other, correct path instead of this one where healthy kids wake up dying.
So, we go on. We eat, sleep, clean the house, walk the dog. I have started going back to work part time and it really helps me to have something else to focus on. Something clear cut, meaningful. Something that goes as expected. Tony's having more trouble getting in to work, being at home and needing to focus.
Jaal is very sad, of course, yet manages to take breaks from his grieving and have fun with friends: go to movies, kayaking, swimming. I am so glad that he is still able to enjoy life, and he is looking forward to Evergreen.
Tony and I like to walk. Preferably with Jaal. Sometimes I could just keep walking, and walking, and walking.
Our moods go up and down, but never far up. Often far down.
But a lot of the time is spent just going through the motions being really sad. I think you just go through the steps of life until those steps become your life again. Sometimes we seem okay, but it is quite superficial. One little peek inside, and it's a pretty dark place.
I miss him, and want him back so badly. It's so frustrating. I miss him so much, and I feel so badly that I couldn't help him.
So far it has not gotten better with time, but I know it is too early. I am more able to do other things, like some work, but then the grief comes up and grabs you to bring you back to that place that is more comfortable for the moment.
We are strong for Jaal. He needs us to be, so we are.
That's about it, I suppose.
