I am starting this blog some 18 months into the loss of my husband. Grief has so many disguises that there are some days when I can hardly keep up. Anger, sadness, physical pain, withdrawal, fatigue, you name it, moment to moment. But recently, it seems to be enveloping me in a kind of veil so that I am a few degrees from reality, hearing things slowly, waking late and not fully, moving through rooms that seem distant even as I step into them, letting the practicalities of daily life slip by, out of sync with the is-ness of things. This is normal I suppose. The veneer of precarious life is cracked; not just the fact of it but the being of it.

So, I am writing to you, to me. Each attempt to describe, each word on the screen, one less to pool in my mind and body, one more toward movement. And perhaps we get to come back to ourselves soon, not leaving the dead behind but bringing them into life with us, showing them how we go on, connected but still grateful for each day. So, there I have written it: that is my goal.