It will be two weeks tomorrow since my Father died. Time is still a blur for me. I’m able to pick up my grandchildren at the right place and time but I’m having trouble remembering what week and day it actually is. Despite this issue, I am still capable of making certain observations.
There must be a gap between the amazing doctors and their billing offices. Why do we have so many bills sent over and over for the same amount within two weeks following Dad’s death?
People have been very kind. The notes keep coming. I would like somehow to absolve anyone who didn’t visit or hasn’t written yet of the discomfort they feel when they notice me on the street. It’s okay. Not everyone can get everywhere everytime. Not everyone can be as immediate as my husband with writing notes. Certainly not me. If Richard doesn’t put the stationery in front of me (with a pen), I wouldn’t appear to be as timely as I might seem.
There’s also this weird feeling when you meet people with whom you’re rarely in touch or even those I meet in the elevator where I live and they casually ask: how is everything?” I feel I have to tell them my Father died; but then I have to deal with the uncomfortable look on their faces as they and I don’t know what to say.
I guess this time is meant to be uncomfortable-like the Shiva chairs.
I saw my Mother earlier today. She’s doing okay. Off to pick up my grandson and begin ” mini cooking” which will be accomplished using the top of my mini fridge as a counter, my toaster oven and microwave. Applecrisp is in the toaster oven and veggies have been microwaved. The butcher delivered skinless fried chicken, rice and challah. Salad to be made.
I wish everyone a peaceful weekend with family and friends and an extra moment to fully appreciate that you have them- and to those who observe- Shabbat Shalom