We're nearly six months out. I don't know what else to say. The world is moving on, maybe? I'm still here, I'm still lost, but there's no time and there won't be time to mourn anymore. All I can think of is a line from a pop song, "But I know now that we were not the people that we turned out to be." I'm 26 years old and I feel a hundred most days, I know someday I might feel normal again, hey, maybe someday we'll even have what feels real marriage again instead of just some kind of survivalist roommate experience. Someday I'll be able to look at my son and really see him for him, not just look over and be gland he's breathing and the big gaps either side of him where sisters should be.

Katherine, I'm so sorry. I wish I had something good to say. All I can tell you is that you are not alone. We will be here with you.
Sue.

Katherine, I'm so sorry. These markers are so hard - partly, I think, because the dates bring home all kind of reminders of what we've lost, and partly because with each new week or month that's passes, we feel like we should be feeling better and more "normal" even when we aren't. I hope things get better for you, that you find your new normal. Thinking of you,