…for Stephen to walk through the door. Okay, not really but that’s what I catch myself thinking. Is that horrible? Or when the phone rings around 5pm, I expect it to be him “I’m on my way home”. Intellectually, I know that I’ll never see him again but a huge part of me is in denial. I catch myself looking at his picture and missing him.It’s really hard to explain. Really hard. I’m really doing okay. Better than I thought I would. Being a single parent is hard but I have had some help. There’s just so much to do in a day that it seems like I don’t get anything done. And I have to ask for so much help that I can’t help but wonder what people think. There are so many things that I never learned to do and now have to figure out.
I spent the afternoon at the Social Security office. That was neat in a people watching sort of way. I went in to apply for the “death benefit” ($255…left over from one of the World Wars, I’m told) and it turns out the the girls and I both get “survivors benefits”. Who knew? I didn’t.
It’s just hard this time of day. The kidlets are done, I’m done. And nothing gets done while I’m bathing and putting them both to bed which takes forever. Another set of hands was really useful and I didn’t take the time to appreciate it.