Seems I'm taking the same advice I gave, some 12 years ago, to my Mum. I waited painfully beside my Dads hospital bed, watching him die and thought ,(not without a great deal of guilt), that death ought to be quick and painless. Aferward, I coached my Mum through a very long and painful bereivement by saying "one day at a time".

I'm using that same advice on myself now and it seems to be working. Almost two weeks have passed and I can actually speak about Shaka without dissolving into tears and icing my eyes afterwards.


BUT....and this bothers me alot, I have found that, now that the initial grief has passed, others are not open to talking about my magnificant Shaka. I WANT to talk about him. He was ALL to me for 9 years and two weeks isn't enough time to just forget him. My life was all about him and my life has changed over night and I'm not adjusting as quickly as others would like. I NEED TO TELL PEOPLE ABOUT MY BOY.

I went shopping today. I bought a magazine and some drain cleaner. I spent the entire morning, until 1pm, running my Mum around town to buy the things she needed. I listened endlessly to her about the things that matter to her and I said NOT A SINGLE WORD ABOUT ME. I just knew that it was not the time.

There seems to be an unwritten rule that "the time has passed" and that I am not welcome to speak of my loss any more as it makes others feel BAD.

Well, I feel bad about 93 times a day. Whenever I do anything, from get up in the morning to drive to the corner store, every single thing I do makes me think of SHaka. He was with me for all of it and he was there with such happiness and love that everything feels hollow and empty.


I won't blog about Shaka anymore. It is sad. It is my sadness and I have to find a way to feel alright to be alone with it. But, this is a memorial to him.