I am still here. I think. The last three weeks have been a blur. I actually took this weekend to become one with my couch. There were only small necessary tasks accomplished. Nothing that involved more than 2 kilowatts of brain power or any physical effort.
We watched the entire Lord of the Rings series (including the extended, two disc, Return of the King). I was so emotionally wiped out, I didn't even cry like I usually do when I watch LotR. Only comfort and junk foods were on the menu. Many naps were had. Showers, getting dressed, and the brushing of teeth were optional. Bed head was the norm. There was none of the guilt I usually feel when I check out for a day.
I think it's probably a normal part of the grieving process. A quiet time to let it all sink in. A time to figure out exactly how I feel about my Grandfather's passing. A recharging of the batteries before getting back to life. A rethinking of priorities and perspective, a realization of my own mortality. Maybe it's just my age, or the closeness of family. Whatever it may be, my Grandfather's passing has had a surprisingly profound impact on me. I'm still figuring it out. I feel an appointment with my therapist coming on.
Despite all that, stirrings of blog posts have been forming in my head. The titles: "The Vacation I Needed a Vacation From" or "I Swear, I'll Never Do This Again" have been forming in my head. My subconscious knows what I do not, blogging is a form of therapy. A venting to the web. Writing to no one, and everyone. It helps you work it all out. The feedback from comments validates your feelings and lets you know that you're not completely nuts, or alone. I am grateful for it.
As they say, Life goes on.