It's still very surreal. Most of the time I'm fine, but there are the occasional reminders that tug at the heartstrings. The questions I get from the kids are the hardest. This weekend, my mom was reading to Zach and he asked her if he could say goodbye to Papa. Ugh. He had come into the hospital to talk to Papa and say goodbye when we got there the night before Thanksgiving, but while he is old enough to "get it," I'm not sure how much he really does get it.
It's going to be a strange holiday, that is for sure. And next year's will be just a rough, I expect. Maybe worse. But I hope they will get easier as time goes on. I was wrapping gifts last night and came across the things I bought my dad for Christmas. I had mentioned to Erika that I had these things, and we half decided that we should have a "dad" night and try to enjoy some of the stuff we had already bought (favorite hot chocolate, mugs, and 24-hours of WWII documentaries;) in honor of him. Obviously, my mom will be invited, too, assuming we do anything. But at least we could all be together and feel close to him and one another.
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