It's been 2 weeks and 21.5 hours, or 14 days and 21.5 hours, or simply 358 hours. I read somewhere that life will now be divided into before and after segments, that does seem to be holding true. I supposedly have gained all of this time not having to care for her physically anymore, but yet I cannot seem to find time to do anything. What did I do before? I remember thinking about that after each time we had another child, it never really did make sense how the number of hours in a day didn't change, yet there was more to do and somehow there was room to at least half attempt a good job at completing all the responsibilities. So here I am almost 15 days later, not working, not taking care of Sonzee and all of her needs, and not having any time (or really desire) to get anything done.
I can't seem to grasp how the world is moving on at a regular pace, yet I feel like I am living in slow motion. I can't seem to grasp that she isn't here, yet there are constant reminders of her absence. Sometimes it almost feels like she was just a figment of my imagination, was she really even here? How was it for almost 5 years? Why did those 5 years seem regularly paced with the speed of life in general, but now time without her from the outside of my bubble feels like it is speeding by, but from where I stand I am the turtle just considering starting the race?
One of the books I am reading has a subtitle about "surviving the loss of a child". The word surviving jumped out at me this morning as it is sitting next to me on the desk. That is essentially what I feel like I am doing. I am just surviving. There is nothing fancier than that going on over here. I am merely existing. I go through the motions of life and smack the smile on my face but to slightly alter my own quote from our fundraising video in 2017, it is extremely devastating to have had an almost 5-year-old little girl and see all of these milestones that she won't be able to do, and we are supposed to just pick back up and carry on with life.