Numb

I lie here on my bed. It’s not quite dark yet. I meant to go to the pathway and watch the sunset but time has gotten away from me even though, once again, everything is moving in slow motion. I am numb and unable to move.

My chest feels heavy. It even hurts. No, it’s not a heart attack. It’s heartbreak. I’m grieving…again. More answers will come tomorrow. Tomorrow…another turning point in this month long battle.

I hurt for my dad. I know he wants to be here with us. I want him here. I want to make up for all the times we’ve quarreled. I want to say I’m sorry (again) for my part in the division between us. We reconciled in January right before he got sick so we didn’t get to enjoy our renewed relationship. Now, he’s trapped inside a body that is so very tired from fighting.

I am numb from head to toe.

This is the hardest part of life. Grieving.

Grieving the loss of love.
Grieving unanswered questions.
Grieving the loss of life.

My head is starting to pound. But still, I cannot move my body. It’s so heavy. Dark and heavy, like the clouds in my pictures. I guess I really don’t want to move anyway as I have no where to go.

I need to be held and to cry into a shoulder. And then held for a bit longer. But my room is quiet except for the movement of my dog, and the sound of my own breathing. Breath I wish I could give to my dad. The silence is deafening. Tears begin to fall. Again.

It’s dark now. Another day has come to a close.

I am numb.

Andi