Then I thought, you know, it's been seven weeks since we finalized our plans for Alex's headstone. I wonder what's going on with that? To be honest, with the way I'm feeling today, I'm too afraid to call. Not that they probably aren't used to people crying on the telephone with them...but I'm just not up for a major breakdown today.
And so I get home and there is a letter waiting for us from the lawyer. I thought, "Wow, way to avoid an uncomfortable conversation...blowing us off in a letter." But no. The letter says they have yet to hear from their nurse practitioner and he will get in touch with her and let us know what is going on.
I have this incredible urge to go home and garden...maybe pulling some weeds will work this ick out of my brain for a bit. Maybe some progress toward something pretty will help ease all this waiting.
4 comments:
I guess there's something to be said about sticking together...;)
Hope the weed pulling helped. Sticking my hands in the earth usually helps a little. It reminds me that this body, these hands can grow something. *hug*
please come weed my flowerbeds. they contain therapy enough to last you for weeks, i promise.
hope tomorrow is better.
PA doesn't issue birth certificates for stillborns, but I do remember paying a fee to the funeral director for a death certificate, which we never received.
And, my yard could use some therapy of its own. It has this non-compliant passive-agressive narcissitic quality about it. It hates me.
Post a Comment