I’m back at work. It feels good, returning to my routines and a semblance of a normal life, whatever that is. People ask me all the time if I’m okay, and I don’t really know how to answer that question, other than to thank them for their concern. I haven’t figured out what it means to be okay. I’m getting out of bed. I’m working a full 8+ hours. I’m eating lots of Christmas cookies, and probably regaining the weight that I lost over the last month. I’m now sleeping, with the aid of pharmacotherapeutics. I don’t cry more than two or three times a day. So, yeah, maybe I am doing well.
I also feel suspended in denial– it hasn’t fully sunk in yet that my mother is dead. I still think about calling her everyday. I check my phone inadvertently for messages from her; my heart jumped in my chest this evening when I saw a call missed from “Mom, Home” (it was my stepfather phoning me, of course). Maybe if it really sunk in that I’ll never ever recieve a call from her again, I wouldn’t be showing up to work and being productive and “doing okay.”
* * *
Mom’s services will be held on January 6th in Surprise– check out her CaringBridge for more details. I’m eager to get back to Minnesota, and we will also be doing a service there sometime in the spring. I feel numb and bewildered, but I do know it will feel good to get back to the place where it all began; the place that was home to me, and to Mom, at the very beginning of life.