Yesterday, Saturday December 3rd, represents the beginning of the countdown as one year will have elapsed since Dennis died. It's been weighing heavily on my mind, to say the least. I just got through a difficult November and December doesn't seem to be starting off any better. I can't comprehend that one year has passed; it all still seems to have happened just yesterday. I can still "see" him in his chair, looking frail but still here, talking, laughing, just being himself. I was talking to him Friday night (yes, I still talk to him—all the time), telling him how I couldn't believe one year was approaching. I apologized for the fact that I'm not doing all that well, but I can't help it. I just miss him so much, I don't know what else to say. A lot of tears have been flowing lately, seemingly coming out of nowhere at just about any provocation.
Our annual holiday party at the office is coming up this Friday, and the way I feel about it is it's just something else I have to get through. I'm just not in much of a festive mood. I'm trying to figure out if I want to bother getting any holiday decorations out of the storage bin. Nothing about the holidays feels right this year. I used to do an annual holiday newsletter that I would include with the holiday cards, but I'm not in the mood to send any out. I just can't get motivated. I feel very lost and my GPS unit can't find the way back. I'm floundering so much you might as well toss me back into the ocean—or wherever flounders survive.
I've been feeling so down lately that I'm even re-reading On Grief and Grieving, figuring it can't hurt. The words in this book really resonated with me when I first read it, and now we'll see if I pick up any new ideas as I "learn to live with it" (the main premise of the book). Of course, learning to live with it doesn't necessarily mean I have to like it, and I don't like it one damn bit.
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