When does it get better? A little bit at a time

I just got off the phone with T. and started to tear up.

I called to say hi and see how he and everyone is doing. He’s doing fine but says he misses mom so much. I could hear the pain in his voice.

And so, when he asks how I’m doing, I answer that I’m doing OK. ‘No, how are you really doing,” he asks again. “Really, I’m doing OK,” I tell him adding that I of course have ups and downs.

He asked if I was still in my grief counseling group. I told him no, that it ended, but I continue to seek counseling on an as-needed basis, and just met with Dr. R earlier this week.

He told me J. called him, which he so appreciated. He’s always had a special interest in him. He asked how all the kids and M. were doing and then said, “I don’t know what else to say.” I told him he doesn’t have to say anything. “I just wanted to call to say hi, see how you and everyone was doing and to hear his voice,” I told him.

There was a brief silence and I could tell he was hurting. And so was I. And we said good-bye.

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