still

 how did I return to work? I don't know. I thought, or felt, or sensed, that it was important to do because I was losing contact with the world in a much bigger way than anything that had come from the pandemic and lockdown. It was a gamble. So far I've been met with kindness, though someone has already unloaded their anger on me. That wasn't an easy day. It required that I sleep the rest of the afternoon; just go numb and get through. I am terrible about responding to friends. I don't know what to say. "I am dead inside"? That's a lot of fun.

I just took a break. Luna woke up crying and so I laid down on the floor next to her, holding a can of cat food that she nibbled on. She licked my fingers and I folded my hand, palm up, under her like she likes to be held. She's always preferred that she rest her weight on top of me. I love this. I settled into the floor next to her bed, my ribcage screaming with pain, and started to sob. I am trying to register and celebrate the life that is here now. She is alive. She is eating. She is licking my hand. She is purring. She is letting me snuggle next to her. "stay in this moment", I tell myself. She is here. She is here. 

And the scream of silence roars at me from the house without Ursa.

I am in the throes of grief; losing one daughter and trying so hard to celebrate the precious time with the other.

I am too delicate for this world. My grief is too wide.