and I am here. Getting through the day. That’s about all I can say. I pretty much lie when people ask how I am unless they are family members going through the same thing. Frankly, most people don’t ask how I am anymore and those who do have that deer caught in the headlight look like I might say something serious and they won’t know how to answer. I get it. I have been the person unsure of the best thing to say. And yet it’s a lonely place to be. How do you tell people that you didn’t just lose a Dad, you lost one of your main confidantes, one of your best friends. I could count on him to call me or I him every day for the past 5 years. How can I explain the aching hole that his absence leaves behind. I still talk to him. I try to hear his voice replying back to me. It feels desperate and crazy at times but I fear if I don’t keep trying to hear his voice in my head, I will forget what it sounds like. At least I learned in the book on grief that being completely exhausted all the time and feeling spacy and out of it is normal. The authors keep suggesting I delegate to other people but that is so the opposite of who I am. I don’t like to ask for help with anything. Don’t want to be a bother. Good thing my hubby has been helping with some of the housework or the house would probably be a total wreck. Ugh. Even admitting that I’m struggling on a blog post that hardly anyone will ever read makes me uncomfortable but maybe someone who has lost someone will relate to what I am saying. I guess that’s it tonight. No fancy words. Just raw honesty. There you have it, cyberspace.