One day after

Today. The day after David died. I've made "arrangements." I've signed papers. I have been hugged, driven around, taken care of, not slept much, eaten what others have brought. I took a shower this morning and managed to get dressed. I wrote a check to a very nice young man who mowed our lawn. I found where David's original will is. I talked and talked and talked to people who called or who I felt a need to call.

I've done all those things today.

And David is not here.

Especially to those who have asked, Julia is doing as well as she is able. She really loves having Lisa, Linde, and Cheshire at home, but she is missing David. We have gone through period of time during the day when she asks over and over about whether David is alive, whether he is sleeping, whether this heart can start up again, whether she can wish him alive. The questioning goes on and on -- my dear girl, trying to understand the new order of things. Every so often, Julia stops and asks me if it is okay if she is sad, if she can cry, if she can have tears. Julia had a bit of trouble at clinic today -- a hard transition with tears, and kicking and screaming. Debbie said it didn't go on for too long. My girl, my girl.