Today I Made The Coffee
Dealing with My Grief
Before I even got up today I knew this was going to be a tough day.
I got dressed and went about my morning routine just because. I fed the dogs, the cat, the fish, and turned my thoughts to my son, still sleeping in his room.
It’s only 8am, and it’s cold out. I usually lie in bed next to my boy and sing him awake with silly songs — my heart bursting to have him wake up laughing… but not today. Today I simply lay there next to him in silence, no song in my heart. He wakes up and hugs me. It’s like he already knows my mind is heavy. I hug him back and snuggle, the tears trying to push out of me. But I’m very good at denying them. I’ve had lots of practice by now.
With him awake, I go downstairs and wait for him. I pack his lunch with robotic movements. The very air feels heavy. I make his breakfast. He eats it in silence while I go brush my hair in my room.
Every step today feels heavier than the last. I tell myself I’m going to make it. I have to.
I get my boy out of the house and dropped him off at camp on time for the first time this week. But I don’t turn my car towards home.
