Sunday, January 14, 2018

Weight: 130.6
Macros: Cals - 1,357, carbs - 131, fats - 41, protein - 79, fiber - 20
Veggies/Fruits (goal 8): 5
Sleep (goal 8 hours): 6.5
Exercise: None

It's been snowing here all day. Yesterday afternoon our electricity went out for a couple of hours, and my niece and I played Cards Against Humanity. Then I took my sister and niece out to dinner and had two glasses of wine, not my usual single glass. My head was a bit logy this morning; clearly, I'm not the drinker I once was.

Yesterday I spoke to DH's daughter and was quite relieved that she is doing well. I had worried that her dad's death would devastate her, but she seems very much at peace and so grateful for all the loving, long conversations they had when she was here at Christmas. One of DH's sons called today to check on me, which was sweet; they are all more worried about me than about themselves. They're probably right.

I've also spoken to friends and family members calling to convey their condolences. I know these conversations are important because others need to process their own feelings in response to this shift in their own worlds. But these talks take so much out of me. I can see that being a grieving widow can turn into performance art for others who want to learn how to process their grief and confusion (present and past) by peering into the mirror of mine.

Protip: It's absolutely true that you should never tell someone who's grieving the loss of a loved one that they will get over this, much less cheerily advise them how to do so. Nor should you tell a new widow that your sister-in-law is going through the same thing.

And now I'm about to make a fika for my sister, and we'll attempt a crossword together. Yesterday's crossword didn't go well, but today I persevered and have just now finished it! Hurrah! In my brain I can clearly hear "My Heart Will Go On" (from Titanic). #ALittleSillyNotSoSilly

Tomorrow morning my sister will go home, and I'll drive to The Big City to see my therapist, run errands, and see our CPA.

One breath at a time.

P.S. It took my stomach three years to make friends with lettuce again; now, I can't get enough of it!

Ann, so glad your sister and niece are there for you. And while the condolence calls are a comfort, they can become intrusive. So its ok to look at caller ID and not answer if not in the mood.

My mother's hospice service, which was a godsend, has grief support services. They are still sending mailings and calling me. I think they have a checklist that says they have to keep calling until I tell them I am ok. And her annuity plan sends all kinds of grief slick folders. Everyone wants in on the act.

Good for you on the crosswords. One breath at a time is good way to be. Diane S

One of the worst things for me (with my daughters loss) was when people said "God only gives you what you can handle".

You won't get over it, you will learn to live with it and to cherish your memories (as you are able to do over time).

I absolutely hate that phrase.

It always made me feel like they might be saying if I were weaker she would have survived and it made me wish I wasn't strong. Nonsensical I know, but that's what I felt at least for a bit. One of the brief conversations my daughter and I had before she died was about how my own mother fell apart for years after she lost her oldest child. Elise told me that she knew I would be there for her siblings and that was important to her. I heard her a lot over the years.

I hadn't thought if that way, I can see why it would bother you so much.

Honestly, I think the thought that God is challenging (tormenting) us like that is nonsensical.

I find comfort in knowing how much she continued to be a part of your life.

That is also an awful thing to think (that God would torment us).