Mourning and grief are strange bedfellows.
I never know when an extreme crying jag will strike. Awaiting what minute every day detail that once only resided in the background will spark a memory: cue the water works.
Today as I crawled onto Lulu's day bed, I finally noticed the bed was filled with her scent. I laid there with my body curled in a ball but my nose was firmed planted in Lu's blanket, drinking her in.
Yes, I am that woman. And I don't care. I never thought it would be this difficult. The emptiness is more than I can bear. Over the past three months, I realized Lulu is my entire world. She was 18 months old when she ran into my life. Taking care of my Lulu every day for 8 1/2 years is something I cannot turn off.
Each day will continue to bear remembrances of my sweet Lulu Bean. Some memories will bring a smile to my face, while others will be sad reminders of the vast void in my existence. For once, I don't mind being in limbo.