Two words to describe grief.
I’ve had to take a major step forward this week, and leave a personal issue in the past. That, and my conversations with Inigo have meant that the last two weeks have been the worst since Archie died. No. Last Monday was the worst day (bar the 6th of November 2010), of my entire life.
But I made a decision to stick with uni, and I have an assignment due on Monday. So I have had to get a grip, and knuckle down. Assignment one in “Environmental Peace” has been electronically submitted tonight, and now I have tomorrow to catch up on a week of psychology homework. Ask me about salinity in the Murray-Darling Basin 😉
It doesn’t mean I am not sad, or inhuman, just that I realise that my choices are mine to grasp, not to passively accept the weight of the crap that has rained down on me in these last 12 months.
And today? Inigo told me that he didn’t want to go and see Alex (possibly his favourite person), because he wanted to stay with mama. Maybe I am doing a better job of staying jolly in front of him? Or maybe he accepts that I am flawed, and loveable anyway.