Coping. Or not.

I do my crying on the way to and from work, lately. Keeps it out of the office. Mr. Nomist has been absolutely terrific at helping me through the rough spots, doing things I can't do (like emptying out my son's closet-- I mean, literally I couldn't even look at it). The hard part is how many times I have to be reminded in a day that he's never coming back, so x, y, and z don't matter any more. It's like opening up the stitches all over again each time.