That's how I feel. Stunned that seven weeks along, I have the damn nerve to tear up as I pass a Captain D's we ate at, or want to avoid the petite section in Kohl's because it makes me sad.
It's been seven weeks - I should be over it! She was gone a long time before she actually died. [I tell myself]
Still...
I miss her.
Last night as I watched 50/50, the only part that made me cry was when the main character, Joe, told his demented father he loved him. Great heaping sobs.
I still have not called the hospice group, but they send a letter every month with "tips" on grieving.
Myrtle's daughter invited me to the CB support group on Thursday nights.
And didn't go, even though I could have.
Maybe you have some insight she said. I got nothing, I said.
To the people who find out that she died and get all apologetic like they shouldn't have asked - it's okay. You didn't know. I feel like I should say it some other way than - she died in December. Which is the truth, but they get so shocked and want to take back the - how is your Mom - question.
I feel bad, like I should be making it easier for them.
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Here's another article - on introverts (not grief). I like the definition of shy vs. introverted: "Shyness and introversion are not the same thing. Shy people fear negative judgment, while introverts simply prefer less stimulation; shyness is inherently painful, and introversion is not."
Maybe they should base insurance rates on whether one is introverted or extroverted: "...[introverts] are less likely to take dangerous risks. Extroverts are more likely than introverts to get into car accidents, participate in extreme sports and to place large financial bets."
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For all us introverts, and my friend GA Boy, (who is a self-proclaimed Djork) here's It's Oh So Quiet:
