Hard things that used to be easy.

I cooked dinner tonight for the first time. What I really mean is that I opened bags of frozen things and heated the contents in appropriate manners. How did I go from the even-homemade-broth-kind-of-mom to this?  But I fed myself and my girl. (That was really hard not to add an "s" on girl.  I actually wrote it plural 3 times before getting the singular form to stick.)

I rearranged my bedroom in the hopes that Lib and I can sleep in a real bed for the first time since...a long time. We've been on the couch, the sleeper sofa, or at someone else's house for probably 16 of the last 19 nights. Maybe 17. It's too hard to count.  Feng shui is out the window. We're just looking for different enough to sleep there tonight. 

My allergies are kicking my ass. What is worse than permanently screwed up sinuses from crying? Adding allergies and sinus congestion into the mix. I'll probably have to go into rehab for my Afrin addiction before I'm through. 

I've had no alcohol since before that night. No wine. No cocktail. I've only taken sleeping pills (rationed out), vitamin supplements (my immune system is in major compromised mode), allergy pills, tums, and naproxen. I think it would be too easy to stay numb. Numb would be simple, but it has a price--not being aware for Libby. And I've gotta stay functional for her. 

She asked me today why she's still alive when she feels so dead inside. I told her that she's my reason for being right now and that we would both find meaning in our lives again sometime. We just have to trust that we will. I can parrot my counselor.  That's not hard. Making her believe that I trust is hard. Making her go to school when it seems pretty pointless to her is hard. Not panicking in Target is hard. 

Meanwhile, I can sit and knit. I've started a simple knit afghan, just knitting every row. It's methodical. It helps me regulate my breathing. It may cover a football field when I'm done. I have no concept of size, when i started I just cast on however many stitches and then knit rows until I ran out of a skein of yarn, then I changed colors and knit another skein.  Someday I'll either run out of yarn and end it, or it will get too big to carry around.

It will probably always be easier to carry than my grief.