Five months ago was the last day I spent alone. It was the day I was home sick from work just before Alex died. I remember sitting in the house, watching soap operas, eating chicken noodle soup, and feeling like crap. My baby was dying inside of me.
Five months later, I'm alone for the day.
It really has been five months since I've been completely alone...just me and the animals. It's a strange sensation being in this house alone. Sam's toys sit almost mid-play, waiting for his return. There is no constant stream of questions or commentary to deal with...there are no expectations. Sure, there is a list of chores as long as my arm that I COULD be doing. But instead, I'm taking myself to the cemetery to clean up the last of the dying summer flowers on Alex's grave. Then I think I'm headed to the beach. I know it sounds strange considering it is about 55 degrees outside. But I need a quiet place to sit and think...and I'm a water baby...so the beach is the perfect choice. Maybe I'll pick up a sandwich on my way and have a sad little picnic for one.
One thing is for sure, I can't stay in this house alone today. There are just too many ghosts.