I finally got home on Monday evening, 28 hours after leaving New York City. It was ridiculous the journey I was forced to take. Never again for American Airlines or any flight that goes to or through Dallas Ft. Worth. Enough said.
When my daughter and I pulled into the driveway, I was astounded by the number of roses in full bloom all around my house. They are just gorgeous. I’m so grateful for these flowery friends in this fragile time.
Most of the time I feel like I’m doing OK. Like perhaps I can just grieve and not drift into major depression. I’m grateful to have my job to go to now. I’m incredibly grateful for the friends who are calling me every single day. It feels like I am being wrapped in blankets of love – shielding me from the sharp edges of grief.
This afternoon I registered for two sewing classes. I was already registered for one next weekend. Now I will have a 2 week quilting class, a blouse class, and a napkin class. Maybe it’s too much, but it feels like the right thing to do to keep myself busy.
When I turned my calendar to July to write in the dates, I had one of those punch-in-the-gut moments when I saw my sister’s birthday. Her daughter got the box of invitations she had printed for the party last night. The party my sister was so excited about and now will never be. Oh God, sudden deaths are hard!
But the roses are beautiful this year.