Eve Exhaustion

I've noticed a pattern in my grief: it's the "eves" that destroy me. The day before Ed's birthday, the day before Thanksgiving, the day before my birthday (well, that's the 8th, so that doesn't really count), the day before Jack's first communion, etc. etc. -- they are all brutal. Those are the days I just want to curl up on the floor and cry for an hour or two. I often do. It may look like I'm not doing anything, but just holding myself through the pain is an Olympic event.

Today is the seven month "eve"-- May 7. Today also marks the birthday of my nephew, the son of Ed's best friend and younger brother. May happens to also be the seven year anniversary of this blog. It is also the day I interviewed for the permanent position of the job I'm currently working in an interim capacity. Add to this list the marking of five years at my current place of employment: the longest I've worked anywhere in my life.

I'm tired. Exhausted.

Last night I was up late thinking through the interview, working very hard to ignore the following:

1. My partner, who has been my biggest cheerleader and most honest critic, wasn't there to practice interviews strategies
2. This was my first major life step since Ed's death- a life step I would have never come to without him
3. Death is a massive "restart" button and I'm in the process of rebooting and have only a very vague sketch of who I am and what this life looks like- hardly the best foundation for convincing a panel I'm a great fit (how do I know I fit if I'm not even sure of who I am?)

On the flip side, I had years of memories of support and encouragement to draw on. The week before Ed died, I had been waiting to hear the next step for finding out about the interim position. Changes occur at a glacial pace in higher education, so I was a bit anxious. I called Ed everyday from work when I came close to demanding some status update. I can still hear his voice: trust the process, trust your strengths, remember that no matter what happens, we're good.

We're good.

When I was putting Jack to bed tonight he asked how my interview went and how I thought I did. I told him I did as well as I could, which was all I could do. I then channeled Ed, who is so much a part of who I am, and calmly let Jack know that whatever happens we'd be good. We're good, if oh, so tired.