Weekends Are the Worst
That's right. I said it. The weekends are the worst. In my experience with loss thus far, the weekends seem like this vast expanse of time I have in front of me with nothing to do but deal with my thoughts and feelings. Absent are the routines and busy schedules that fill our weekdays and make time march efficiently forward with less space to think and feel the absence of him. With looser schedules and lazier days come quiet times to reflect. The very qualities that I used to relish about our weekends together as a family are the qualities that now leave me anxious, restless, and longing for Monday for the first time in memory. With nothing pressing to do and heavy feelings pinning me down, I inevitably turn to distractions that make the weight easier to bear. Sitting outside on game day, playing with our kids, having quality, relaxed family time is a healthy distraction and I couldn't get through this without my husband's steady love and support n...