Time warp

The calendar in our kitchen remains on July 2012, halted in time marking the moments that life forever changed in this house.  I cannot bear to turn it, but someday, when an extra surge of strength seeps in, I will likely take it down and toss it.  Not today.

More than half a year marched on since Kelci's accident, some of my life with it, yet a part of me remains stranded in those first moments of comprehension that my life would forevermore be one without Kelci (physically) in it. 

This double life I lead is weird.  One part of me has been able to function, to continue to work, to run, to put together a wonderful celebration to honor my baby, to put together a walk/run team in her memory, to get through some major holidays, to go on two trips (one work related), to find ways to smile, to help others, to dig deep and find the strength to carry on and try my hardest to live well in spite of, and to keep my promise to Kelci. 

Then, there's this part of me that mostly remains hidden deep within me. That can't move, can't get past the words "there's been an accident, she's gone." Right now, even as I sit here writing this, I shake my head and think, no that's not possible.  I'm right back there, leaning on the couch to hold myself up, and not having a clue what to do next.

That me still looks out at the functioning me and wonders how I am doing it.  Sometimes, OK, much of the time, the functioning me is asking the same thing.

Mostly, I think, it's because I try to live in the present.  My mantra "it is what it is" has helped me to stay grounded in the here and now and not continually asking the unanswerable question, why, and I believe the instinct to survive and the need to stay somewhat sane have kept me from looking too far into the future.  I try to simply take what comes right now, looking ahead leads to worry, worry might lead to collapse.  Right here, right now, the present is all I'm promised and truthfully just about all I can handle at the moment, so it's where I'll try to remain.  Funny how something like this got me to a zen like place others work really hard at finding.  I'm pretty sure I finally achieved true irony.

Maybe I'm not completely successful at it though, because, as I've already pointed out, part of me still sits back there lost, alone, stuck and unable to fully comprehend that this is real.