The Real World

For the past two days, we have been dabbling in the "real world."  Zac left on a short hunting trip with his family that had been planned for months.  He debated going, but Zac is better when he's got something to do, so away he went.  Yesterday, I met one of my favorite people for lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant, which felt great, even though I barely tasted what used to be my favorite food.  Last night, my best friends from college took me to dinner at an actual restaurant.  At times, I felt completely tuned out, but they did a good job of supplying pleasant, hilarious and real company, as usual.  I am so blessed to have these girls.   This morning, I woke up and took Bo to his first day back at school.  For the first time, I had on work out clothes like the other moms who drop their kids off, and I wasn't balancing my Blackberry in one hand and cell phone in the other.  But I did have a knot in my stomach and tears in my eyes as my precious first born left my warm little nest and went into the cold world.  He did great for those three hours.  I did okay.  After we got home from picking him up, I looked at Jamelle and said, "I'm tired," and went to sleep for the next 5 hours.  Perhaps I am not ready for the real world.  For the first time in my life, my mental strength is exhausted and I have a hard time remembering who I have talked to, what notes I have written and what I have done each day.  I cannot sleep at night with Zac gone, so today I am particularly "out of it." My children are the only reason I  got out of bed at all.  While I enjoy hearing what everyone is doing, I am having a difficult time focusing on the outside world and even imagining being a part of it again.  I know it is going to take small steps, and I know I will take all the steps I can until I am "living" again.  I keep thinking, the first time I crave a meal or have a desire to go shopping, I will know I am getting back to myself.  So far, neither food nor clothes appeal to me, so those of you who know me, know it must be bad. :)  I want to be a part of the real world, but I can't yet figure out how there is a world without Webb.  So, as today ends, I will take my bath, say my prayers, put my children to bed and, from the outside, appear to be normal.  But inside, I am anything but, and it hurts.  It's a very real, persistent pain and all those things I am doing are called "going through the motions."  But I suppose going through the motions will one day turn into living again in the real world.  And it makes me sad that I must develop a life that works without Webb, but I know I don't have to do it all today.  Today I am still the mom that lost her child.  But one day I pray I will not be known as that...one day I hope to be known simply as a woman who is a good mother that has gone through many struggles but come out on top.  One day I hope the hospital and the funeral are painful memories I can barely conjure up instead of the movie that plays in the background of my mind all day long.  My fear is that the farther away I get from the painful memories, the farther away I get from the pleasant memories I have of Webb.  And then the words Dr. Gil has told me a million times since this happen ring in my ears "You choose what you remember, and you choose what you forget."  I cannot wait until I can choose to push those painful memories aside.  And for all of you in the real world, I cannot wait to be healthy enough to join you again.