The wake was so surreal. And I hugged my wonderful and completely brave and strong friend so tight. I’m still so worried about her. But she had the bravest face I’ve ever seen.

It’s strange how life works sometimes.

I’m hoping that eventually that strange will turn into some good strange and stop being all this really bad strange.

It can’t be like this forever.

In March, I thought my whole world had fallen apart.

And I have spent every day since picking up the pieces.

It’s getting to the point where the good days are starting to outnumber the bad ones.

I’m hoping that, one day, I’ll wake up and find that I don’t have any piece left to pick up because my world will be rebuilt. Better than before.

I need to start being patient with myself and my process of grieving.

But just because I’m still picking up the pieces doesn’t mean I’m not ready to add some new beams into the construction.