Up North

Son#3 and I are back from South Africa.
Yesterday was a tough and tearful day back at work and into the rhythm of our stressful life.
 
You know, I can rationalize that it's better that my dad passed away, but I can't seem to sell it to myself emotionally.
We left my mother behind, and that feels awful.
I know that she has to get used to the quiet house, to the being alone, but I wish I could help her through this.
I wish she could have come with us.

We fell into an easy rhythm, the three of us.
Took my mom to the school where she's teaching until the end of November, went home so Son#3 could play for a while.  

Grocery shopping.
Laundry.
Fetching my mother again, and having lunch, at home or in a cafe.
Dinner.
Bed.
Little sleep.
 
I'm glad we went.
I needed it, and so did my mom.
We're comfortable when together.

  
Son#3 was in his element:  Heat, lots of loving from adoring females, water.

He cried for his grandmother 3 times within 2 hours last night.

It all boils down to missing my father, and the finality of not being able to see or speak to him again is awful.
Grief is a strange, strange state.


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