The Safe Spot.

I've been diving three times. This does not make me an expert at any level. But, I do know that there is a spot before emerging and breathing independently, where a diver must pause for a bit in order to release the nitrogen build up. I believe it is called the "safe spot."

I am in that spot right now. My mother has been dead for more than a week. And yet, her funeral is still nine days away. Last Friday night my children and I hosted a reception in her honor for her local friends. She would have loved it, but it wasn't the finale. 

And so I have been back at work, because truly, what else is there to do? My friends helped me put the rest of her things  in storage tonight, so there is no need to revisit that anymore. But, although I am physically at work,  I am mentally absent. It is not a good feeling. Especially as I prepare for state testing next week. 

I'm not very connected to life right now.

I'm not sure where I am, but I haven't emerged to the surface yet. I am still underwater. 

I've had recurrences of the physical ailments I encountered from stress last summer; rashes, stomach pain, anorexia etc. Everything feels so raw.

And I've realized that loss is cumulative.  Her death compounds Glenn's death which compounds every other hurt and loss I've had. It is hard to separate them, one from another. 

And so I wait in this "safe spot". And I hope that as we complete and celebrate her life on this earth with family and friends coming from near and afar next weekend, I will emerge and take that one life affirming gasp of real air, such as happens when emerging from the deep.

Waiting.

On the journey.