But I stop and think: "I had a feeling this might happen. I worried all the time- about you traveling- about the possibility of your death. Furthermore, I knew one day you'd die and I'd probably be left alone. I knew. So...it has happened. I must just go on."
And this morning I had a burst of normalcy, and cleaning. And I felt as I vacuumed the rugs quite feverishly (but that's how I always clean), "OK, it happened. The worst has happened. Now I must clean up, now I must get getting."
These thoughts both comfort and disturb me at the same time. Because I know it is way too soon for me to "get going" and I know that it is some strange survival instinct rising up in me- but I know that also- eventually, not for many days, but one day, it will be true.