Today is a hard day. I had a moment in the shower, this morning, when I thought “Tony killed himself” and it was like I was hearing it for the first time. As a result, I feel shaky and sad and angry and want nothing more than to just crawl into bed and put my head under the covers and hide. Grief is like that. It blindsides you. You think you’ve reached a certain place – maybe not acceptance, not yet – but a place where you can deal with what’s happened. Then a day like today comes along and shows me how very far I still have to go. Acceptance is a distant country. Impossible to chart the distance from where I am to where it is; impossible to know how or when or even IF I will get there. Everything, today, feels impossible. I am here, where I am. I am upright, and breathing. Maybe that’s all I can really ask of myself.