This is where the healing begins. There is something in that. I cried a lot today.
Our bedroom always seems cold to me now. I'm numb a lot.
I hold it together when I have to, I am trying so hard to be brave for the kids.
We dropped off a few of her things with the mortician, who turned out to be people we knew, so that helped some. I find myself talking to her pictures, and the mirror and the air a lot. I know she hears me though.
We went out for dinner with my parents, and it hit me that it was just me and the kids now. Our 5 is down to 4. And I think that will take a long time to heal.
I keep telling the kids that it's ok, because she's in heaven now. She's better now. It is becoming my mantra, and it reminds my why I could let her go.
But we have gotten through today. I look at her face in all of our pictures. I folded up the letter she wrote me before I left for Parris Island, and put it back into my wallet, faded and stained with time. There are still kisses on it for me to go back to.
I'm gonna miss her as hard as I loved her.
For everyone asking about the services, we won't be doing anything to spring. Robin said she didn't want a funeral. She didn't want everyone moping around all sad. She wanted us to have a party, and celebrate her life. So that's what we're gonna do. She didn't want to be in the ground, so she if being cremated, and her dad is making her wooden urn, since I could hear her saying, "Dad could make that better." I think we all heard it.
We are also setting up a fund for the kids college, so once it's set, I'll get that word out too.
Thank you all for loving her and reading with me.
It won't be over.