I had a friend say to me the other day he didn’t know how I got out of bed every day. Obviously he truly understood the loss of Sandy and the suffering I was going through even though I had been so very careful not to express my feelings and keep our conversation focused on business. I count him as a friend but our relationship is mostly professional.
My response? I truthfully said that sometimes the only reason I got up some days was to feed the dogs. That may sound pathetic but it is the cold hard truth. Thank God for them.
Before September 30, 2021 I could probably count on two hands, if not one, the number of times I cried as an adult. I am not a demonstrative person as most anyone who knows me can attest to that.
Since then? I do not want to try to quantify the number of times. I will say there is too many hours, days, weeks, and months on introspection to even figure.
I am going forward. Sandy would not expect or allow me to do anything less. I need to come up with something to be worthy of her memory, not to quit.
