I went back to work today, which was good for me. The animals were left alone together for the first time. They did fine except that Jethro ate the cat's food, so Hunter was really hungry when I got home. Except for a brief nap, they've been romping around since I got home. We all should sleep well tonight.
I was talking last night about the irrelevance of the formal stages of grief. Well, I found something better - the real stages of grief, obviously defined by someone with first-hand knowledge. I agree with this one. But I'm still not sure which stage I'm in - probably either 4 or 5. So that's over half-way through, isn't it?
I don't really feel better today. But today I feel like I might feel better someday. And that's enough. I can live with that. So it was a good day. The general concensus seems to be that my grief process was partially suspended while the girls were living with me. But the good thing is that I'm getting on with it, which is healthy but uncomfortable. The holidays are over, thank goodness, so that's okay until things like your birthday and Valentines Day, and all the medical anniversaries like the last day you were out of the hospital and the day you were transferred to Indy. Oh well - so it's never going to be okay. I can deal with it as long as I feel like it might get better someday. It doesn't have to get okay.
I need to rescue the animals from each other and get us all off to bed. Sleep well, and know how much I love you,