This week has been one of the saddest weeks for me. A friend and her family got some very bad news, and this friend is so dear to me. While it feels like her world has stopped, my world has become very fuzzy. I'm just so sad for her and the news that she received, and I've felt very immobilized. From sobbing on the kitchen floor to organizing our files, I've experienced all the stages of grief this week. While it's been difficult for me, all I think about is my friend and her family and what life is like for them. The thing that brings me the most comfort is being with her. I love seeing her and being with her and giving her freedom to feel whatever she wants to feel. (I even have some anger exercises that I picked up in the 4th grade when my family was at Sierra Tuscon that I can't wait to share with her.)
On a particularly slow day this week, I was able to enjoy some home time with the kids. I erased all obligations, chores, and errands from our agenda and just had some white space to play with them.
We formed an indie marching band that lasted for quite a while, a game that John originally created. There was lounging, of course, but the best was the fort.
Between being the oldest of three and numerous years of babysitting, I've made about 1798323 blanket forts in my day. The peak of my skills was this day when I made a solid fort complete with a room, top bunk and pillows inside for reading books. Fern was quite impressed and excited, while Burl just made us pretend hot dogs the whole time.
This day was so good for me in so many ways. I enjoy playing with the kids, but it's rare that I have several hours to devote to them. I made a decision to focus on them the whole day and it felt so good. It helped give me some joy and hope that I had lost this week.
From here, I don't know how to wrap this up. I just wanted to post this as something that I can remember. It's been a dark week, and I've had a lot of time in my head and I almost deleted this blog and stopped doing a lot of things. Instead, I've tried to keep doing my normal things and function the way that I normally do. That's about all that I've known to do is to keep going, one foot in front of the other.