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It took another hour and a half, but I did get out. They were very understanding about the blanket, and I got #2 a nice ivory color. They lost my queen size:()!, so I went to get another one. I bought a little food so I can stay here next week. I did not cry in the store, but I made a quick trip of it. I avoided the Men's section like a plague. No way.

I saw the former cafe dishwasher, who lives in the park. He gave me "the look" and I knew he heard.

Next, I will recount my trip to Delaware. G-d knows, these posts are making me sad. Enough!

Wild one,

Grief is an individual experience. No one feels it quite the same way as anyone else.

We spend so much time in this country, this era, cheering ourselves up, that we often forget that people do grieve. And we don't know how to cope with grief.

You can be sad. You can grieve. You will find, at certain moments, that you burst out crying for no reason whatsoever.

Long before I was born, there was a tradition that people who were suffering through the first year after the death of a loved one wore black. The second year they wore grey, or soft lavender, or other dull colors. This was not so much ostentatious dressing as it was a warning to others that these people were grieving, and might be unhappy.

You do not have to be peppy, or funny, or cheerful. You have the right to sit down and cry.

This is a bit early to tell you, but I'll explain. The first year after a death is horrible. Yes, there will be occasional good moments. It's not all bad. But we're getting close to the major holidays, and you'll find yourself thinking, "A year ago, we did this." Or, "At Thanksgiving (or Christmas, or whatever holiday) we always did that." And there will be other stumbles. Personal holidays that other people won't remember or think about. You'll see children going to school, and think about the first time your son went to school.

This is normal. Everyone goes through this. If anyone has the unmitigated gall to say, "Hey, it's been three months, you should be over this," you have my permission to punch that jackass in the mouth.

Don't push yourself to recover too soon. Mourn. Grieve. Remember.

If you want to post about something funny, fine. If you want to post about special moments you had with your son, that's fine. But please don't feel that you're supposed to be happy, or that you're supposed to get over this quickly. You won't. No one expects you to.

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