One of the things grief seems to have stolen from me, aside from my usual sense of humor and desire to hang out with tons of people whenever I can, is time. Or really the sense of time passing.
I woke up this morning to the excited chatter of kids about to be freed from the yoke of public education for a brief 9 weeks and I couldn’t really comprehend what I was hearing.
How is it possible that they are out for the summer? That they’re home for the foreseeable future? That I haven’t purchased their plane tickets yet for camp? That I have nothing planned for them to do until then?
How is it June?
Where did the last three months go?
Heck, where did the last 9 months go?
Didn’t school just start?
The school year often feels like it flies by in a blur, but this year? It’s like someone hit fast forward.
I lost most of November and December to post anesthesia fog,* the start of the year to frantic trips to Canada to see my dad, and the spring reeling from his death.
It’s a good thing the girls had a good year and that they had fantastic teachers to support them so that I could bob along in my fog of grief and work, but I’m bummed that I feel like I missed their 2nd and 4th grades.
I was here. I helped with homework. I read in the classroom. I had deep and not so deep conversations with them in the car. I hugged. I laughed. I packed lunches and checked test papers. But it really feels like I was going through the motions, waiting for my everything to click back into place and start feeling engaged again.
Guess it didn’t happen in time for the end of the year.
Here’s hoping it happens before the next year starts.
*Don’t bother searching, I didn’t blog about the surgery I had back then. I might soon. Not sure. Just know it was elective and that I’m a-ok.