27 days

 Today is the 4th day of the 30th week, the 21st day of the 7th month, the 204th day of 2025 [with only 155 shopping days until Christmas], and:

• Gorgeous Grandma Day
• Hot Enough for Ya Day
• National Vanilla Ice Cream Day
• Peanut Butter and Chocolate Day
• Sprinkle Day
• World Sjögren's Day
• Yada, Yada, Yada Day
• the moon is at waning crescent or 1% of full
• and Voyager 1 is ~23h 09m 35s of light travel time from Earth

Punta Ínsua Light in Galicia, Spain
Bing wallpaper of the day

Quote of the day:

"There is no love that is not an echo"

~ Theodor W Adorno - German philosopher, musicologist, and social theorist.

When does life become "normal" again after one experiences a loss?  

I've been trying to think about how things went when Frank died 21 years ago after we had been together for two decades.  I remember being in crisis management mode [CMM] for a very long time and not talking to my family and friends unless they reached out to me, but I don't remember the everyday coping.  I remember not being able to sleep in the bedroom, and camping out on the sofa in the living room - in fact, I don't remember sleeping in that bed at all until I moved back in 2007.  I remember not being able to function when I tried to go to work on 12.16.2005, and that started my practice of taking off that week in December.  I remember 12.16.2009 when Billy insisted on having a full funeral service to move Frank into his final vault [which had just been built] that only he, his mother, and I attended, and I cried all the way home.  

I thought I was prepared for Tommy to go.  He had been fighting the metasized cancer for 3 1/2 years.  He was in a hospice and we were told that at most he had 90 days left.  It wasn't a surprise like Frank's death.  

And yet, the least little thing wells me up - like the picture of the Boardwalk I wrote about on Monday.  

Or, having a discussion with Chris about all of the alts Tommy had and that he used to roleplay with him in different games or in world.  Chris commented it felt like he hadn't just lost Tommy, he had lost an entire group of people and I just felt so bad for him because it was  completely true - none of those avatars have logged in for the past four weeks and they never will ever log in again

And there is a mountain of paperwork just waiting to descend because Tommy didn't have a will.  In Tennessee that means probate court - and dealing with my ex.  Because Tommy didn't marry or have children, Bob and I are co-heirs.  Yesterday I had to talk to the bank because they had been notified of Tommy's death and they needed to know who was going to be administering the estate, with documentation of same.

Not only am I hyperemotional, and rather overwhelmed, I am also so tired, just fatigued no matter whether I sleep or not.  Just being in the office and trying to act professionally and interact with people is draining, not to mention the two to three hours commuting to and fro.  

All I really want to do is hide away and let the hours/days just flow past until I heal, but that isn't an option.  I haven't decided whether being forced to be out and about, and to talk to people, is a good thing or not - but I can tell you that for now,  it is at best an irritant, not a comfort.