Roller Coaster

The roller coaster took a steep plunge yesterday. Don't even remember what started the tears and sobs. Oh yes I do. Was in the supermarket and remembered I wanted to pick up a loaf of bread. And that thought lead to the bread isle and the brand I used to buy for Rob. And the tears started welling up in my eyes.

The little things are piling up. Using the red Nikon camera he got me. Seeing his keys. Wearing his watch. Doing the garbage. Walking through the garage. Doing laundry. Coming across cards he sent me. Changing a light bulb in the basement. Buying kleenex. Opening the refrigerator. Sitting in a chair. Talking on the phone.

Maybe its from stopping all the busy work yesterday. Sitting still trying to breath and meditate. Of course I sat on Rob's side of the couch. He used to sit here and meditate—I hoped it would help me.

So yes to achieving some peace, but it also awakened the grief I've only allowed out for short intervals.

Last night I got into bed early, crying and sobbing. One of my cats joined me. Purring as loudly as I was sobbing. He was as inconsolable in his need for love as I was in my expression of grief. He just had to be held. And have his tummy rubbed, something Rob taught him. He repeatedly butted his head against my face, wiping away my tears with his fur.