It has been exactly a month since my ”big-little” brother died. It is as heavy on my heart as if it happened this weekend. I’m reminded of when a newborn baby turns one month old, and you realize that the past 31 days have been a semi-conscious blur of functioning somewhere between grogginess and sleepwalking.

On some levels, we’ve made great strides toward healing and trying to discover what a new sense of “normal” is supposed to be like. Talking the boys through some of their thought processes has helped me a lot, because it brings to perspective their childlike faith and reminds me not to over-think things.

At other times, I function one hour at a time, because everything around me reminds me of him, and I feel suffocated with grief.