Baby Steps

This past week, while clouded with sadness, has been an interesting juxtaposition of emotions and events. Friday was the day of Adam's death, but it was also my dad's birthday. Before I learned the news about Adam, I had sung the "Happy Birthday" song on my dad's answering machine. My dad informed me of funeral arrangements and thanked me for his birthday card all in the same phone conversation. While at home, I mourned Adam's passing while also feeling closer to my two other stepbrothers than I have in a long time. I felt a profound emptiness while also feeling intensely comforted and touched by the support of all my family and friends, and even that of strangers.

While I've known that there is no compartmentalizing life--no clearly separating the good from the bad--I've found myself wanting to separate them ever since the call I received about Adam last Friday. Like many people who have lost someone they love, I've had moments where I've felt a little guilty or strange about continuing to enjoy life's pleasures. Minutes or even hours will pass during which everything feels normal and routine and then I am suddenly reminded of Adam and jolted back into reality. I know that it is important and necessary for life to go on, but I can't help feeling a little guilty, or perhaps I am afraid that if I become too comfortable, Adam will slip further and further from my memory.

Today was the first day everyone in my family has returned back to work and back to regular routines. Things feel normal and abnormal all at the same time, and right now I find that a bit unsettling. It feels as though the world should stop, but life doesn't hand us a stopwatch for when things get rough. I know the line between normal and abnormal will continue to blur a little each day, and I know that's how it should be. And so, as uncomfortable as it feels, I'm trying to embrace those good and normal things again, one step at a time.