wonderful.

So who's the first person I run into today (my first day back to work)? the guy that no one wants to talk to because he's socially inept and doesn't understand when he needs to shut up. All ya gotta do is say, "sorry for your loss, hope you're doing ok," and stop there. No. This guy keeps going. To the point where he follows me out into the hall to keep talking to me. erg.

my coworker stole my headphones while I was gone. Awesome.

my poor dad. I've been staying at his house for a while (btw... it's so weird to say "my dad's house" instead of "my parents' house") to help ease the blow, which I'm not sure is the smart, healthy thing to do or not. yesterday I cleaned and grocery shopped and cooked him dinner and bought him chocolates and a card for valentines day. He felt bad because he had forgotten about it and didn't get us anything, something my mom would have been horrified about. He sleeps with the t.v. on, because she used to come to bed and turn it on and it's too quiet without it. I noticed when I looked in on him the other night that he still sleeps all scrunched up on the edge of the bed, like he still has to make room for her body pillows. He doesn't really know what to do with himself, really.

I don't think it's totally hit any of us yet. I know it hasn't really hit me. And I learned this lesson last year. I keep telling myself, "you can't just push it away when you think about it; you have to grieve," just like I told myself 6 months ago under different circumstances. But the difference is that this hurts. so. much. more. It's funny how things get put into perspective, eh?

I'm afraid to start running again. running is when I think the most. when I really examine what's going on in my life. the thought of it terrifies me.

everyone told me at the showing and funeral how much I look like her. my dad's mom, my grandmother, told me how beautiful I am (that's what grandmothers do, right?). even today, a woman I work with told me how beautiful I looked, and how gorgeous my hair is. I got my hair from her. it was this exact color when she got married, before she had kids. From the pictures, I can tell that she got it from her mother (I never knew my mother's mother; she died young, when I was ~2). the compliments are flattering, but they make me start to wonder... am I destined to have the same fate? to never see my grandchildren grow up? will I die young too? This thought consumed me, terrified me, when my mother got sick. now it's come back to haunt me.

I suddenly have an irrational fear of everyone around me dying. from the moment we decided to take her off the ventilator, my worries about her dying shifted to other people. I stayed up all that night worrying about my dad having a heart attack from all the stress. When he coughs, I worry that he has cancer too. My dear friends who came to visit - I worried that their flights back would crash. I worried that my brother would get into a car accident on his way home. right now, I'm worried about theroommate, who is on her way back from a business trip today. I'm pretty sure I'm going crazy. or maybe i'm just terrified at the thought of losing another loved one.

One thing's for sure. my mother is still with me, shielding me from at least some of life's pain. I was scared to deal with valentine's day and my birthday this year. my first in 7 years without him. Last year at this time, we were shopping for bright shiny rings, discussing when we would have children. This year, I could care less. life's too short to dwell on people like him (especially since he's obviously crazy for ending our relationship. I'm beautiful! My grandmother says so!).

perspective. that's what this is about. I've gained it in leaps and bounds this past month.