Preparation

Today I make the final preparations for Colby's Celebration of Life event and everything is surreal. I buy a guest book, run copies of a schedule, double check that there is enough water and ice . . . and Kleenex. I pick up keys to the electric box at the park pavilion where the event will be held. How can I be doing this? I feel like I am going through the motions of life. I am not actually here. I am not really going to sit through a memorial service for my only child tomorrow. This can't possibly be. But it is.

I must stay busy. I mustn't think. If I think, I will fall apart so badly broken that I'll never be me again. I make a list. I can't cry. Not here, not now. I have too much to do. I bite my lips to keep the tears from falling. Somehow they fall anyway.