The Day After

It's the day after my mom's funeral. The sun is shining and it's partly cloudy. The weather gives no hint of the activities yesterday. It was a long day yesterday. I woke up early to be at the funeral home before anyone else got there, and still my cousin was already there waiting for me when I arrived.

I didn't feel as if I had done all that much, yet by the end of the day yesterday I was completely exhausted by the day's events. I think I expected to feel differently as if some huge burden would be lifted by my shoulders by having completed all the necessary duties to my mother. But instead I felt the opposite. I felt a heavy weight tugging on my soul, and found it difficult to take each step.

I thought with my exhaustion, it would be easy to fall asleep, but instead I tossed and turned most of the night. I've been told to take it one day at a time, and parts of it will get better and parts of it won't. I've also been told to remember a little bit of my mom each day, so I never forget. Both good pieces of advice that are hard to take in with her passing so recent.