After this past week, my brother in law's funeral, our lives are supposed to get back to normal. It's hard. And yet, you can see the coping skills of each of us. My father in law deals with difficulties by diving into doing mindless, but necessary tasks. My mother in law by keeping the rest of her family close, and my husband by keeping busy and not thinking too much of it.
And so our lives go on. This week, our local newspaper published his death notice, complete with the picture from the funeral bulletin, (not the best photo of him, I thought) and it was hard to read it. Timmy had always picked up the paper for his mother, and my husband had just bought her a year's subscription, so now she has to go to the post office box to get it herself. That's going to hurt.
And driving by the barber shop bothers me too. It was always full of life and busy, and now the homemade sign I scribbled out there on the night he died is still there.
Now his son has no place to hang out. His son's mother asked us to keep their boy always included in family activities, but lately, they've been a bit sombre.
And in the midst of this, my writing continues. I'm wondering if my prose will have a sombre tone as well. Time will tell and time will heal.