After Midnight

After midnight, in the wee hours of Friday morning, I find that I can neither sleep nor write a blog post.

Yesterday, I accomplished a respectable amount. I thanked another doctor, wrote a few more notes, and paid some bills. I started laundry and took a break to read a bit. Then when laundry was at a stopping point, I went out and ran some errands. A stop at the post office allowed me to buy more stamps for snail mail. The car was running on fumes, so I stopped and got gas.

I took a break, bought some lunch early in the afternoon, and drove to the park where Ron and I used to often picnic. There weren’t many out and about because it was a drizzly day. I don’t much remember what I saw or who was there. The visit morphed into one of a line that seems indistinguishable one from another. The day seemed to need more tasks, and so I piled a few on. After I returned home, I tended to the laundry, paid a few more bills, shredded junk mail, video chatted with family, and listened to some old tunes.

There seems a sameness about these days, that is disconcerting. There seems a difference in myself, that is perplexing.

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2 Responses to After Midnight

  1. My dear Ann — Grief is like this, I am told, when it is the death of a close loved and cherished person like Ron, with whom you expected to have many more years ahead. And many times — like yesterday and last night — prayer just cannot find a voice or even a thought. Muddling through a day of “busy-work” seems like what is best. I usually just go back to bed and take a 4-hour nap !! I am always here (many times asleep, but I do wake up and check my email !), and I always will answer. That’s what friends do for each other, but especially when one is grieving like you are. Always know you are in my prayers and not only my thoughts. — Mark

  2. AECRM says:

    Thank you, Mark.

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