Just Under the Surface

On the surface my life seems to resemble some sense of normalcy, whatever that means. I get up every morning,  go to work on weekdays and run errands/do chores/etc on weekends, exercise, interact with friends and relatives and generally go about my business. But beneath the surface, a myriad of thoughts and emotions bubble through my conscious (and probably my unconscious too):

• Song lyrics that before were inconsequential ignite my grief all over again
• Red haired women evoke a vision of Janell's gorgeous hair (and they seem to be ubiquitous)
• Hospital rooms drag me back to Janell's last days of suffering 
• Movie/TV scenes of lovers kissing touches off my sensory memory of Janell's kiss
• Certain foods (eggs were oddly one of the few foods Janell could eat - I haven't cooked an egg in over fourteen months since she died) trigger memories of loss
• As I walk through our home, pictures of Janell pull my gaze - sometimes I just stop and stand trance-fixed
• I can't walk into our closet without running my hand over her clothes 
• I wear her grandfather's ring and twist it for comfort (I wear our rings on a gold chain)

So I seem to be getting along. I cry less, but I still cry. I make jokes with friends and relatives, but my laughter feels hollow. I carry on conversations about politics, work, yard work and other innocuous topics, but the spirit is dampened. I make plans for the week and the weekend, for trips, or for a potential leap into either retirement or my own business, but my heart isn't really in it. I'm just acting, living "as-if," physically going through the motions and hoping someday my soul will heal and find meaning again.