I'm still learning how to live with this new reality, it seems. It's a very slight ripple in the larger scheme of the world, of course, but I am all about the minutiae. I live in the details and the minor adjustments of angles and shading.
I have found it's best not listen to Lightning Dust or other mournfulish bands while driving about running the sort of errands that I used to do on the way to pick the Resident Offspring up from school.
We spent a lot of time together in the urban assault vehicle, after all. It was where we perfected our Scottish accents and where we determined definitively whether Don McKellar or Tyra Banks would win in a fight. Pah-leeze, Tyra would not even mess a single hair in one of her fierce weaves as she demolished poor Don. I still carry my travel mug in the backseat cup holder, ready to go for that after school coffee.
At home, oddly enough, the emptiness is less pronounced, despite the strangely clean dining room table and the unrumpled bed in her room. I guess this is because we skype most every evening, sometimes spending hours in front of the webcam, not necessarily talking a lot, but sharing snippets of info that come to mind or that surface on Oh No They Didn't. I've taken to making little pictures with pen and ink or paint chips as we talk, and to periodically running the web cam around the room to show off the progression of the art project or how peaceful the cat looks sleeping on the spare room bed.
And I am slowly rediscovering weekends, the time that used to be reserved for family, as a time to connect with other friends.
I'm getting there. The quick tears of the early days have been replaced by a deeper ache that comes with the knowledge that life has changed irrevocably. But without change, there's no discovery, no growth, no new life.
How have you adjusted to change in your life?