Still Bending, Still Almost Breaking

Sleep still remains something far off in the distance like a summer storm or a sailboat. I know I can get there but my body can't quite muster up the strength to make it happen. Last night the crying started. The darkness isn't really comforting. Today I had soup and friends at lunch. That was nice. My husband teased me yesterday. That was also nice. But I am over the shock of everything and keep turning the reality of the events of my mother's death over and over in my mind late at night. Any dreams I have are invaded and mixed up with the smell of hospitals and the pain of knowing even if she did magically get better one day she's now lost to us forever. It's not sad. She suffered more in one lifetime than people should ever suffer. I feel I'm less than myself right now. Coughing. Shuffling. Stuck on the subway in a throng of people when I'd much rather be riding my bike. My shoulders slumped and a defeated look on my face.