Ok, I made those words up. But this morning, as we head into week 13, I am determinedly blessed by a multitude of coolnesses.
I woke up to a lovely email on FB from one of the mums who I'd helped yesterday when her daughter had gone out of school by the wrong gate, saying thankyou for staying, but also that she wasn't surprised, as I had always been there when she needed me.
That's cool. Not the doing of it, but the messaging.
My clothes are ready to go this morning. Technically I could be sitting here dressed, but I'll actually get dressed in a moment.
The wonder of the inhaler roll, which is indeed wonderous. See here. And the fact that it's here incase the AC needs it, not because he is asthmatic. Sitting sewing it with him was lovely last night. He didn't ask for tv until we'd been home a good couple of hours, because we played, and sewed, and that's cool because it means that he's getting away from the escapism that the tv was offering him, and is starting to face reality again. Understandably, like a fair few small children in his situation, every now and again he doesn't want to think about just how much he's lost and how much it matters to him that Rich has died.
I also had a phonecall confirming the inquest date yesterday and telling me the time. It's 2pm, which is cool, because that, to me, means it is neat and tidy, cut and dried, and we shall not be long. I've let I-t-B and the She-Ex know, and heard nothing back, but that's ok. I know what that means, and that's fine. It doesn't matter to her that he died quickly or whatever, just that he's dead and there's no money coming in like it used to. I hope she gets the Widows pension, I really do because at least that'll help keep a roof over the BG's head.
Anyway, 13 weeks. 91 days.
3 months tomorrow.
I'll care, but I won't hear from anyone else like She-Ex or I-t-B I shouldn't think. And that's ok too. It's cool that their intrusion into my grief is lessening, and their fake tears are dried now. AC and I will do what we always do, gaming will continue, but I think a special cake this week, and life will go on.
Life does go on. I was asked on a date yesterday. I said no, because I'm not ready for all that, for emotionally involving myself in someone like that again, because I can't imagine kissing someone else, let alone anything else. But it was cool to be asked, and it was cool to be told that the person would wait until I was ready. Whether he will or not, I don't know. I can't imagine being ready, ever, right now, but 13 weeks ago now I couldn't imagine being without Rich, 12 weeks ago I couldn't imagine talking about him without crying, so who knows what life will be like at 30 weeks, or 60 weeks or 90 weeks (why multiples of 30? I don't know!)
Yeah. Life is cool.
I know the quilt I'll be making for me for this time of my life. I might even start it this weekend.