I'm staying incredibly busy, not even allowing time for adequate sleep. Not that I was getting that anyway. But it seems a little more harried than usual.
|ICE CREAM FOR BREAKFAST|
Michael and I have both failed to properly acknowledge parental birthdays this month, we have failed to be on our church prayer call 2 weeks in a row, I've double booked 2 appointments, been late for countless others, and forgot one altogether. I've become the person who busily fills each and every moment of my day, often borrowing moments from another day.
But even with all of the busy craziness going on, I don't forget. I can't get away from the fact that I miss my little boy. No amount of busy, no amount of time-filling brings relief from the grief. In fact, the more time that passes, the more "real" it becomes to me, the harder it seems to get.
In the midst of all the busy, I still have the work of grief.