Birthdays.

Yesterday was my birthday.

I feel like I have managed to lightly cocoon the grief. Some days I feel grief's razor sharp talons rip at the cocoon - usually right around my heart area. Yesterday I felt it all day long. My throat was tight, and I was on the edge. I kept it mostly together, though, because falling apart wasn't an option. Too many people question me - try to console. But you really can't. It's just not possible to say, "Everything's going to be okay!"

Eventually we'll learn to live, and deal, with everything.

I couldn't bear to hear the Happy Birthday song. My mom tried to sing it, but I stopped her - kind of harshly - because I was losing it. It's not that I'm unhappy that it was my birthday, but that the likelihood of us celebrating a birthday with Henry is so low that I feel clawing in my throat. It's hard enough to manage this on a normal day! A day with a special occasion?! It feels like the soul is burned out and raw.