Despite my many good intentions, I have been a complete bum for the last week. We got home last Tuesday night and I have proceeded to be as lazy as one human being can possibly be. Fatigue washed over me like a tidal wave and I consigned myself to a life of pajamas, Diet Cokes, and the recliner. In my normal fashion I have attempted to analyze this fatigue. Is it exhaustion from the hospital and funeral home and traveling? Is it emotional fatigue? Is it because I am having trouble going to sleep at night? Is it because I have a 2 year old? Well, by Sunday afternoon when I passed out for 3 hours in the recliner in a room full of playing, noisy kids (don't worry, Josh was here) I came to the conclusion: I'm just stinkin' tired. Doesn't really matter what's causing it, I'm just tired!
So, due to this fatigue I went over a week without ever getting dressed, putting on make-up or entering the real world. Tuesday night I threw on some jeans and a jacket and made myself take the trash to the dump. I knew I needed to get out of the house. The dump seemed like a safe place that would not require hair straightening or communicating with other people. I even ventured past the dump to Sonic. Minimal human contact, but still it was progress.
Finally, I knew I had to emerge from my funk. Last night Josh said he would watch the kids so I could run to the store and have dinner with a friend. I knew this had gotten bad when I had to tell him to make me get ready to go. I mean, LaPinata with Karen is my most favoritest social outing. And I was going to the store to get a new purse, not grocery shopping. I should have really wanted to go. I finally did drag myself to the bathroom to get ready. I straightened my hair, applied my make-up and sprayed some perfume. I pulled some clothes out of my suitcase (yep, they're still there) and put on some jewelry. I looked in the mirror and...I looked the same.
I don't know what I expected. It just seems that after an event like losing your Dad, that you should look different. I don't doubt that the last few weeks have added some lines around my eyes, but when I would make myself smile, I still looked the same. As I shopped in the store and arrived at the restaurant I thought, 'These people don't know. They have no idea that my life has just completely changed in a matter of weeks.' And that is the heart of what always makes tragedy so hard.
When I lost my six year old cousin I was 17. It was my first experience with an event like that and I remember the moment it hit me that while our world was crashing in on us, life was going on for everyone else. It's not a bad thing. It's just a thing. It's just the way it works.
I enjoyed my dinner and especially the conversation. I am blessed with a best friend who knows how to listen and knows the right things to say. We were able to talk about totally unrelated things and then at any moment I could share something really painful and it was okay. And she knows that while I still look the same...I will never be the same.