Grief (I'm beginning to hate the word).
I can still breath, smile, stand, play with my kids, shower, make food. It's more then I ever thought I would be able to do. I feel like my brain has taken this grief and hidden it from me to find later or for only a moment or two each day.
I can have conversations with my children that I never dreamed I would have to have. Hug them while they sob and stare at them until they fall asleep. I am afraid of the future, when it all hits me, when I'm alone, when my mind truly processes that he is not walking through the door.
I am afraid but I know we will make it through. We have to.