I woke up last night at 1:00 a.m. Fell back asleep at 4:00 a.m.  Woke up at 5:00 a.m.

Then I stared the minutes down.  One week ago at this exact moment....'this' happened.  And then 'this' happened.  And so on.

At 5:55 a.m. I missed the first phone call.

 I answered the second at 6:01 a.m.  It lasted 4 minutes.

I got dressed in what I'm now guessing was dirty clothes.

 Her son called me twice as I was flying down her road.  Once at 6:47 for 1 minute and again at 6:50 for 4 minutes.
I only remember him calling once.
 
I keep scrolling through my phone.  Looking at the numbers.  Remembering who I called.  Who called me.
It is soothing.
 
Work today was strange.  I walk in the door and there is an empty space where she used to sit and wait for me.  She would ask about my evening and then we would talk about what is for breakfast.  Usually something burnt.
 
A burnt English muffin with lots of butter and peanut butter.
 
Now instead of greeting her I go straight to the kitchen/family room where my other boss sits reading the paper.  I shut the blinds so the sun isn't in his face.  We chat about nothing.  We are both a little hoarse from all the crying.  We are both trying to be normal even though we know that the other is hurting so badly.
 
I make myself a cup of coffee.  For 14 years she has set out a cup for me.  She hadn't been able to do that for quite some time.  So I don't feel sad getting my own cup out.  I had already mourned that loss along time ago.
 
I push through the day.  I have to focus and not give into my grief.  I have to care for him now and that takes a different kind of strength
.
But once I get home, I have the privilege of crumbling.  It is a sweet relief.  I get into bed and let the blankets and the sadness cover me.  I eat two hostess cupcakes.  I go through work papers.  Schedules and notes of phone calls I need to make.  I'll try to find a movie to watch on Netflix.  But I think I'll just end up staring at the screen and not really hearing the words.

And that's OK.

It's been nine days since I've seen her.

One week since she took her last breath.

Four days since her funeral.

Three hours since I noticed that her dogs keep going into her bathroom to look for her.

Five minutes since I typed the last sentence because I don't know how to end this post.  

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