I go through the motions without thought. It is all so routine, so mundane. Monday is the kitchen, Tuesday is bathrooms, Wednesday is laundry. There are no highs or lows, days pass without excitement, without emotion.
They tell me it will get better, that my grieving is a gift. I am to use it wisely, not let it overwhelm me. That’s what routine should do, keep me busy so I don’t have time to sit and think.
That’s what I want though. To sit, to think, to remember, all of it – the laughter, the snores, the silence, the kisses – everything.