I had the pleasure of going to a surprise party to celebrate a dear friend’s birthday last week. His wife, another dear friend, gave me a couple of tasks to do. She is one of the most sensitive people I know. I suspect she knows how difficult socializing is for me these days, and that a job would keep me focused and my nerves steady. They are very experienced dog people, so they can be relied upon to understand how to keep skittishness at bay. And I can be very skittish.<\/p>\n
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It was a truly exceptional party. Everyone there was incredibly interesting and engaging. The birthday boy and hostess are so smart, so sophisticated, and so appreciative of their friends. I couldn’t help but creep out of my shell. In fact, I ended up ripping off my invisible mourning shrouds and just having fun. The kind of fun where you’re hoarse even before the night is over. The kind of fun where you suspect you might have been a little over the top, but you can’t be embarrassed because you had such a good time. <\/p>\n
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I told Tom Sr the next day that I think I might have crossed the point where I don’t feel guilty being happy. Now, I don’t want anyone getting too excited about this revelation. I’m not sure it will stick. But for the time being, I think my brain and heart have finally reached an agreement. In rereading the paragraph I just wrote, it occurs to me I’ve probably written something like that before. I sort of remember a couple of months ago writing that I was starting to feel comfortable being happy. That’s ok. I know that the grief goes in waves. I’m just happy right now, right this moment, that my angel is still working hard to help me heal. <\/p>\n
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I noticed the other day that I had stopped dating my posts a long time ago. The effect is this weird suspension in time when I go back and read post I had written in the past. So I think I’m going to slowly go back and enter the dates back in. Maybe it’ll be interesting or helpful to other people going through this to see my time-line.<\/p>\n
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\nIt really feels like autumn already. The sunlight is hard and a little to bright. I feel like I’m getting pushed into the future. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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