This puzzle is on the dining room table at Lisa’s house. I snapped a photo of it on Friday. It’s so cruel that she didn’t even get to finish her effing puzzle.
After spending a few days calling people and going through Lisa’s records, I came down with a nasty viral infection and spent the next few days in bed with a high fever. It was like being in hell, because I couldn’t sleep, and everything hurt, and my mind was firmly fixed on missing Lisa, and all the things that she would never get to do, and all the things I would never get to do with her.
But being sick and bedridden also delayed my grieving some, because my mind was so foggy and I wasn’t thinking right. And so I notice now that I am susceptible to bursting into tears at odd moments, such as during my kids’ karate class yesterday. That was the first time I’d left the house in days, and I’m still not 100%, or maybe even 50%. But as the sensei told the class that belt testing is coming up, I imagined Kyle going through his kata and I remembered my own belt testing back in college, when I sprained my ankle and all my friends had to deal with me being hobbled for two weeks, and Lisa was there, and wouldn’t Lisa have loved to watch Kyle’s first belt testing, and shouldn’t Lisa be there, and ohmygod I’m going to lose it.
So broke down and cried right there in the multipurpose room of the local recreation center. Miraculously, Stewart was there too, so he was occupying Brady while we watched Kyle’s class. I covered my eyes and cried quietly but then the class ended and the kids and Stewart were in my face going “What’s wrong?”
God bless ’em. What’s wrong? Because what else would I be crying about? Then I remembered that oh yeah, I cry about anything and everything all the time so me crying wouldn’t necessarily be about Lisa. And the rest of the world isn’t necessarily about Lisa. And people’s lives just go on, even when hers isn’t going to.
and so it begins. One foot in front of the other. Keep Your Chin Up, especially when your nose is running ;D {{hugs}}
Kim, I can’t even imagine. I am doing the “head in the sand not dealing with it” except for mornings on the treadmill, when I am the girl who cries and runs. And cries. And runs.
See you tomorrow. :/
@nina At least running is healthy! And! Productive!
Is it possible to transport that half-finished puzzle to your house? Or if it’s been dismantled already, bring it home. It would be a terrific thing to do to finish it for her. Maybe you could do it with all her friends, and those of us who knew her through you. I know I’d love to participate in a Finish the Puzzle for Lisa evening.
Grief is such a strange roller coaster. It’s been 3 1/2 years since my sister died and still the strangest little moments will set me off. The only way to get through it is to go right through it. I’m so sorry for your loss and wish we could all take a magic pill to avoid the grief and sorrow. Truly.