Grey

I got a call from a friend tonight asking how I'm doing, and I think the best answer is that life is just rather grey right now. I'm going about my life with a decent amount of success, but everything is muted like there's something sitting on me, oppressing my reactions.

It surprised me a little, when I was home. At the funeral, we spent our time talking about my father before he got sick and I mostly spent my time thinking about how much I missed that man. But I discovered when I was home this last trip that I just plain missed my father, even the way he was after he got sick. As hard as it was to watch him decline, we were lucky in that until the very end he was pretty pleasant to have around. He was very sweet and gentle, and able to give and receive affection. He loved to sit and have me talk to him even after he couldn't speak well and he got huge enjoyment out of watching K play. I miss that man too and the house felt very empty without him.

I think grief is a lot like a cloudy day. Sometimes it rains on you and makes it hard to go about your daily business. Sometimes it hits you with a gale-force hurricane and stops you cold. But even when you're functioning fine, it's always there, hanging over everything you do and hard to ignore.