Today I went to work looking like a zombie, no makeup, wet hair; I looked like hell. I am not sleeping well. In fact, I get to sleep just as my alarm to wake up goes off. There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day to fit in sleep.
Everyone today, since I live smack dab in the buckle of the bible belt, told me if I would just believe in god, all my troubles would go away. If there was a god, he would have healed my mother.
I just got done cleaning and dusting the living room; as soon as I went into the bathroom to give it a fast wipe down, my grandson informed me that he decorated the coffee table with all the stickers from his sticker book-great. He stays with me at night because he is still grieving and his parents can't deal with his sadness; he is 4 years old. My mother and I raised him because my daughter had him when she was too young and she had a lousy ob gyn who severed both her uterine arteries and nicked her bowel during her c section; she then contracted MRSA, and had to have most of her abdomen removed. She never was able or well enough to hold him until he was around 5 months old. The bond between mother and child never formed. Technically, when he lost his great grandmother, it was as if he lost a mother because she did raise him.
Time to try to sleep.