Bread in the oven

I managed to get a loaf of sourdough bread in the oven to day. Still have dishes to do, but I can get them in a bit.

I have been doing well the past few days, but I am not entirely sure that is a good thing. I felt myself close up a bit last week after some comments that were made, and even though I do not want to, I think I have at least a little bit.

I have been trying to be upbeat and carry a smile when I am around my sister in law and the other coworker at the school. I managed Friday night when they came to visit. During church, which the pastor talked about Vivian and talked about deeper veiws on death, and how to grieve, and yet still be able to go on without breaking down.

 I had cried once, before the sermon. Its frustrating when people forget that I work at the school. The other two teachers were getting sympathies, and I was forgotten. I wasn't jealous, but it hurt to remember that Vivian was always the one reminding people of the fact and making sure I was included in the work family.

Then during the sermon my tears welled up and as desperately as I tired to control them, I couldn't. It took nearly five min, to gain control, but I thankfully had a small boy on my lap playing with my phone, so I hid behind him, helped him color his pictures. My sister in law saw and put her arm around me. She cried too, and I held her hand with my free one.

I think it was a good thing for her to see. She challenged my husband when he told her how close Vivian and I had been. I never would have told her that, and I was rather upset at him for telling someone who would have been very sensitive to feeling like I was trying to be more important in a grieving process. But as she did challenge it, I think that it being a week later, and the fact that I am still crying should tell someone how deeply I hurt, but as I have said before I am trying to be there for others needs. To smile, and laugh and remind people of who Vivian was. But I feel that it could be mistaken for lack of grief too.

I still wake up in the night, but the times are fewer in between. I was allowed to take the two gifts I had given her home, and somehow that helped.

I realize that you, who may be reading this, may tire of my feelings and the emotions I am dealing with. That's fine with me. I just need to process, and to know that someone could be reading them.

I miss her. Part of me is still in denial. I still feel in part of my heart that she is only gone, that she is coming back. But I know that she won't at the same time. I bought her flowers, or rather ordered them. The family announced at church that they don't want people buying flowers, and that they should rather donate the money to the school. I can't do that. I have to say goodbye. I donate my time to the school. She can have a small token of my affection, my love, and my goodbye. She would have told me I was silly, and shouldn't have. I would  have just laughed and said yes I should have.

She gave me so much in her time, her love, and in what she taught me. It was natural for me to want to express my gratitude and love back. I had planned to give her a birthday gift when she got home, now I will lay it on her grave instead. It will be lovely, with her favorite colors, and the fresh touches of spring which is just around the corner. A reminder that soon oh so soon we will walk the streets in heaven together, when Jesus comes to claim us for his own.