"I wake up in the morning and I wonder Why everything's the same as it was I can't understand, no, I can't understand How life goes on the way it does
Why does my heart go on beating Why do these eyes of mine cry Don't they know it's the end of the world It ended when you said goodbye"
This was the way I was feeling for the last month or so. But I have managed to put in exercise,
gone back to work teaching, reading books I love--fantasies, westerns, or James Herriot, Gerald Durrell--which keep my mind occupied and away from thinking of my loss. Now that summer holidays have begun, very soon my grandkids will be coming for their holidays.
But, every time I see pictures of my son, see something he used lying around and most of all, inadvertently hear music that he loved and sang, the sorrow floods me. Yet, I do see the slow healing of time taking place. Incidentally, I also found this site very helpful.