One month today

How?
Seriously, someone explain how this is possible. I can't keep my eyes dry today, even when I'm listening to my MP3 player super loud to distract myself enough to work. I drove back from lunch and parked to eat (because we're finally getting rain, thank the lord), and the realization that this time last month we were saying goodbye to him because he'd flatlined, broke over my head like a fresh storm and I wept.

Enough time has past where if I'm dragging around the apartment or seem out of sorts, Les'll ask me what's wrong. I know he's a guy, but even he should know better than to ask that question for like, the next 3 to 6 months...he does know better, I realize it's an oversight or him wanting so badly to make sure I'm ok, but I still have to resist the urge to fly off the handle and rant, what the hell do you THINK is wrong?!?!

I hate that the blog has become this grief station, but I suppose it's better than bottling stuff...life is fairly normal otherwise...I'm cleaning a little more, walking a little more, knitting a little more...I go to work, act as normal as possible, and then take it out on Les when I get home. I'm pretty sure when I finish the other 2 skeins of Color Waves on the random wrap, I'll be sniffing around for more yarn, because to finish it would be a type of closure that I'm not necessarily ready for...just started the Chenille so I have some time, but it's knitting up fast...I'm getting smart and not bringing grief books to work; that's just asking to be sad...I wish I could hang one of Dad's pictures at my work, but it's still too fresh...this surprises me a little; I've always been so tough, so good at keeping things from getting to me...I normally don't let things haunt me like that, but right now looking at a picture of Dad for longer than a glance just tears at my heart.

I never got around to doing that ritual on his birthday Sunday, so I'm going to try and do a little something tonight. I need to light candles, talk to him a bit, pay tribute in my own way and get some of this goddamned ache out of my chest.