This morning I woke up around 5:30 and was done with sleep. My usual routine is to get up, turn on the computer, put the kettle on and check in with the grief websites. This morning, I just couldn't face it. My computer is in what would have been Toren's room. We were evicted from our apartment six months after he was born and we painted this room the same colour as his room in our old place. Pete had worked hard to turn a solarium into a baby's room in that other apartment - painted the walls up to the tall ceiling, laid down carpet over the linoleum and put up thick blackout curtains to keep out cold and light. Then we had started filling the room with our daughter's old baby toys, books, her old crib and our rocking chair. When we received our eviction notice giving us two months to vacate, it was like being punched in the face. Punched in the face after giving birth to a stillborn baby. Not good. One thing that made moving a little easier was painting what would have been his room the same colour. The rocking chair is in here too.
This morning, when it came time to go online, I just didn't feel like it. So I grabbed a cup of tea and a magazine and flipped through the pages. Last week I had bought the latest Vanity Fair because - full disclosure - Daniel Craig is on the cover. It's not a proud moment but it's mine all mine. The ads were a bit jarring, all that mindless, superficial selling of stuff. But then I started reading what's going on in the world of arts and entertainment and actually got a bit engrossed in it. This hasn't happened for a long time. Nine and a half months, to be precise. It felt good. I learned that Stephen Colbert's new book is called "America Again: Re-Becoming the Greatness We Never Weren't". That gave me a good chuckle. We used to watch him and his arch-nemesis/partner in crime John Stewart every night. Those two intellectual goofballs got me through the last two American elections. I realized how much I miss certain things about my old life.
I am not fooled. The grief has not gone away, nor should I make efforts to avoid it. But this morning - respite. And without guilt too! Nine months ago, I wouldn't have thought it possible. I won't bother wondering why, or trying to come up with a formula. It just is. For that I am grateful.