I had big plans this weekend, starting Friday afternoon, so although I knew Friday was Caroline’s half birthday, it didn’t really hit me then. Instead, Monday was so hard.
I felt it from the moment I woke up. That pressure on your chest that goes along with the greatest grief a person can come to know. I packed the stuffed bear that the funeral home gave me in my bag to take to work, because I knew it was going to be one of those tough days where I need to hold something in my arms. I really don’t care if anyone thinks I’m crazy. I’m not, I’m just grieving in my own way and if I feel like I need a bear in my arms, I will take it.
During my drive in to work, some song that was a little bit sappy but had nothing to do with Caroline brought me to tears. I had a grief explosion of ugly crying in the car. There is no controlling those explosions of grief; when it happens, you just have to feel it and try to get through it.
I left work early because I had reached my capacity of getting work done for the day. I didn’t have any more in me left to give.
Thank goodness for my husband who was there for me when he got home. His hugs and the way that he is happy to bring up Caroline in conversation help to keep me going.
Missing you, peanut.