Chapter 70. That's ten weeks.

Sometimes I wonder whether it is unhealthy to still count the number of days since Eric's death.  I didn't draw a conclusion.  If I ask Eric, chances are he would say, "it depends." 

I no longer count the days.  It is not important to benchmark against it anymore. Some may call this progress.  I am more pragmatic - I don't do it because it no longer holds a purpose, and it doesn't help me heal.  I only count the days when I blog.  I like referring to my changed life as the number of new chapters I have written.  I consider each day since Eric's death a new chapter.

I wrote five chapters in the last five days, feeling strong and human each day.  I have almost forgotten how extraordinary that feels. Frankly, few could truly empathize, and that's a good thing.  Knowing that feeling is nothing to brag about, and definitely nothing pleasant.  I am all too grateful for friends who could empathize with my loss.  I am seriously grateful for the return of my humanness, and hope that the strength will stay for a while.  

I almost feel sheepish admitting that I feel human, as if it would only be proper if I were in mourning, or if I were to sob continuously for an indefinite period of time, lest it means I no longer long for Eric's warm embrace.  I am fully aware that the sheepishness is completely flawed and unnecessary, and so I refuse to dignify it by giving it another thought.  Feeling human requires no justification.  I miss everything about my husband today, more so than I did yesterday.  And the day before.  

I have fully accepted that tears are now a part of my normal life.  They don't linger, but they always pay an unannounced visit.  I find that I am much better off if I simply accept them as what is, instead of guarding against them like some intrusive distant relatives.  Perhaps my grief and my life is evolving again.  In time, acceptance is within reach and a changed life fully emerges.    

My new-chapter-a-day continues.  I care about lots of things deeply, but only a few are important.  I am still attached to a few things though.  To attach is to be human; the life-long training is to recognize what I am attached to and how it affects me, then learn how to become unattached.  Eric is a phenomenal teacher on that subject.  Now, I am to put that into practice myself.  

When we care deeply about something, yet doing it solely out of love and passion with no attachment to the outcome, that's where magic happens.  

Free thyself from attachment.