I thought I was doing pretty well.
The Marines that have been staying with us have been keeping me distracted. The kids keep me busy running around. If I don't have someone telling me they need something though, I kind of just stand there not knowing what to do with myself. I went in my sewing room yesterday and just sat on the floor looking at everything waiting for me. I couldn't process what to do though. My brain is still foggy. And I'm having trouble focusing on anything for much length of time...
The flowers that Thomas' urn sat on in the church were still sitting where we left them when they were brought home. They were crunchy, and falling all over the carpet if they got nudged or blown by a breeze from the open door. For some reason it was really painful putting them in the trash can. How could I just throw them out? They were so special. They meant something special. But they were a mess. They couldn't be saved. They smelled like old flowers. And they were ugly. Those things still didn't matter. I would have left them sitting there forever until someone told me I had to do it, or they did it them self. I think the biggest part of it all is seeing bit by bit all the things that were related to him disappearing. He's in my mind and my heart, but the external reminders are disappearing. That is hard.
I thought I was doing ok, until I threw them away.
I thought I was doing ok also with no dreams/nightmares for a few weeks. I woke up Kevin again last night for the first time in a while yelling about stuff. I don't remember my dream...only that I was upset because I had no baby to hold. My arms feel heavy, empty, physically aching. At least I am no longer feeling "kicks". That was hard. I know they were phantom "feelings", but I would forget for a minute and go to pat my belly remembering only when I patted a flat belly that he wasn't there anymore.
Ah well. I've made it through another night. Now I'll make it through another day.