My friend told me life would never return to normal, that I would learn a new normal. Today is the first day of that. Get up at 5:45, use the bathroom, brush my teeth…no. I don’t need to wake Terry up. Knock on Eli’s door and get him up. Go downstairs and let the dogs out. Pour a cup of coffee. I don’t need to pour one for Terry. Sit down. Don’t listen for Terry’s shower. Check the news online, I don’t have to set the computer aside when he doesn’t come down. His big chair is empty. Even the dogs aren’t jumping into it like they normally do.
Now I am waiting for Eli to come down instead. Maybe I’ll start to fix his cup of coffee instead. I will consult with him about breakfast, instead of Terry. I won’t get up at 6:30 to start it. He won’t eat it and then ask what’s in his lunchbox. He won’t pick up his travel mug of coffee, go out and start his truck, then come back in and give me a hug and a kiss goodbye. He won’t say “I love you” as he walks out the door and drives off.
There won’t be a phone call sometime during the day, calling while he is in the truck going somewhere. There won’t be a call around 5:30, to tell me his is on his way home, and ask if I need him to get anything at the store.
2 people for supper. 2 people in the evening, 2 people going to bed, seperately, lather rinse repeat.
It’s the New Normal, an infant New Normal, brand new to the world and screaming raw.
We’ll be ok, there’s no other option. But I don’t like it.