My father passed a month ago. For now at least, I don’t really want to talk about it any more. I will instead just say that I was not prepared, despite seven months of hell. And I will talk about the constructive things I have done since his passing.
I have focused on work again and begun a new project.
I have begun writing a novel.
But the top priority is this, which I haven’t started working on yet: I need to regain my physical health. I have been sick with colds almost constantly for the last three months. I have not exercised in almost a year due to pregnancy, the baby, and my dad’s illness. I am tired and out of shape. I feel almost like I destroyed myself in solidarity with my dad. Well it didn’t help either of us.
Now I have to pick up the pieces. The best way to honor the deceased is by living.