I got up and got moving okay this morning. A little bit of bed lingering, but since I showered last night I didn’t need to shower in the morning. I had a headache when I woke up, likely a product of getting dehydrated from the last couple days of travel.
Today is five months since Ambrose died. Somehow, I have survived five months.
I’ve had an emotional day. I feel like I should know what I’m doing, and I really don’t. I don’t know what’s next. I don’t know what I want to do any given day. Figuring out what to eat for dinner is difficult, let alone any long term planning.
I got through the work day. I felt good about the morning. I stood the whole morning, and only went down to a seat after 2 pm. I figure standing as much as possible at work will be good conditioning for backpacking season. Plus, it helps me practice good posture.
I felt myself getting a bit hysterical, so I sang to myself, “I don’t know what to do yet, and that’s okay.” Over and over again. A little singsong ditty to help me remember that I don’t have all the answers and that’s okay.
I’m going over to a neighbor’s to play cribbage this evening. I don’t really want to go, but I think it will be good for me to be with people this evening instead of all alone.
Before Ambrose met me, he wrote blog entries on his website that called to me when I read them. They were spells. Designed to catch a very particular type of person, who turned out to be me. There is magic in this world, and I have felt its touch.
I used to punish myself for crying, so that any time I was upset the pain multiplied upon itself. Ambrose taught me how to cry without self-recrimination. He valued my tears, and my ability to let them go. I cry for him without shame.