Our semester is officially over, but we are all taking a mandatory review course to prepare for our Boards. I thought that the class was at 1000 in room 730; it was actually at 0900 in room 700. The room isn't big enough, so I didn't have a desk until one of my classmates left halfway through the seven hour session. I spent class texting and playing games on my phone and trying not to cry. I also started my period in class, and left my water and snacks in the car. What a great day!!
It wasn't all that bad though. I sat next to a classmate who lost her dad two years ago, and it was nice to talk shop with another member of the Dead Parent Club who is a little further along than me. It's so nice to have someone else tell me that everything I'm doing and feeling is perfectly normal, and that while it get's better it doesn't ever really go away. I think that's a distinction a lot of people miss: I know that this will get better, but it's still a terrible, permanent loss. It felt nice to hear someone talk about how it gets better without minimizing what a big f'ing deal this is. Because it is. It's a big, big, big, big, big, big f'ing deal.
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