First, for those who got in touch with me over the loss of my Omi either here on the blog, in email, or on Ravelry, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Even such a small thing means a lot, and reassures me that she will not be forgotten.
One of the hardest parts of losing someone is the feeling of numbness and disbelief. Walking around shell shocked and, at least for me, stuck in your own head. The world can't see what you are going through or how much you are hurting and you can't comprehend how people can just go about their lives like nothing has happened. Wandering around Target in a fog to pick up a few essentials last week, people kept getting in my way (looking back, I was more than likely getting in their way), talking and laughing loudly all around me. I had to repress the urge to say "Look! My Grandma just died. Can't we all just get our toothpaste or DVDs and go home?".
But I am doing my better now both mentally and physically. My monstrous cold/mystery bug was almost gone but then took a turn into a nasty ear infection. I'm on a huge dose of antibiotics to get it under control (I'll spare you the TMI description...). I'm a little concerned since my ears are ringing louder than usual (tinnitus) which I hope is only temporary. I've had to keep one earbud from my iPod in at work when it is quiet and at night in bed just to cut the noise. I think that must be the true definition of "the silence is deafening"!
I haven't knit a stitch since July 17th. I am itching to pick it up again and find where I left off.
No photos yet, as my camera has been misplaced. It's probably in one of my dozen tote bags.