143

 

143.

That is the number of blog posts I’ve written since he died.

In them, my shock, love, pain, perseverance, setbacks, growth, knowledge, and life have been encapsulated.

People have asked me how I’m able to write each week.

Sometimes I’m not sure.

Sometimes it’s been the only thing to keep me going.

And sometimes…like right now…I just don’t have anything to say.

It’s kind of like sitting in a silent room…you need it to just absorb…reflect. To take it all in.

So I’m taking in the things around one: the past four years of writing since his death. The comments and encouragement from others that my mind’s crazy ramblings are shared, and understood, and enough.

So today..post 143…I will end it with a thank you and a period and a smile.

 

“I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual.”
-Virginia Woolf

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