I woke up this morning at 5:30 a.m. and started to go downstairs until I realized I didn't have to. There was no one down there that had to go outside to go to the bathroom. When I got up from my computer at lunch to grab a glass of water I carried my plate with my food on it with me, and then realized I could leave it on the table because no one was going to jump up and gobble it up!
And while I threw out a lot of Betty's old bedding, the stuff that was just really unsalvageable after years of use, we still have her big pillow and favorite blanket in the corner of the family room. I don't know when we'll be able to finally move that. A little piece of me hopes the cats adopt it as their own so I don't have to. Because once that's gone, there's no clear sign of Betty outside photos on the wall and our bookshelves. And the scratches on our coffee table. Hee.
And then there's the weirdness of social media. the support of friends, family and even barely known acquaintances has been awesome. But I'm afraid of coming across as whiny if I keep posting about Betty on Facebook. Or Twitter. Or Instagram. And at the same time, even though I know I have to maintain my activity in those spaces I worry that jokes I tell or links I share will give people the impression I'm over my grieving and everything is hunky-dory Or even worse that I didn't care that much in the first place and just move on quickly. Grieving is weird in this day and age. Emotions take a long time to process but the conversation everywhere else just keeps zooming along.
Man, fourteen years is a long time to spend with anyone. I know you can't just jump out of that right away. And I don't want to. But I do want it to stop hurting so much.