One day at a time

Things have settled down at the Pfohl ranch. Chris left for Boston this morning, looking forward to see Brittney and get back to his studies and finding a job. Brenda has been in bed for three days with a very bad case of the flu. I have been playing nurse pushing water, tea, rest, and Tylenol. She also started taking Tamiflu. Daniel returned to school on Tuesday. Students and teachers have been very supportive.

We met as a family with a counselor on Tuesday. It was the same person we have been meeting with over the past year. We have now officially passed from Anticipatory Grief Counseling to Grief Counseling. One of the points she focused on is what she called the high jacking of your emotions. Man was she spot on. I can be cruising through the day, doing some mundane task, and all of a sudden be so overwhelmed with such sadness that all I can do is cry. I know that David is with Christ, I know that he is no longer suffering, and I know that we will see him again, but it hurts so deeply that he is no longer here.

She asked us if we have talked about what we are going to do with David's belongings. She encouraged us to not do anything until everyone is ready. What do you do with his button collection, his pencil sharpener collection, the Hess Trucks he got every year for Christmas, his pinewood derby cars, his walkie talkies, his Green Bay packer hats, his Yankee paraphernalia, his cheese heads, the hundreds of Odyssey CDs and tapes, and the list goes on. Each little item reminds us of a story or a "Davidism." I have a feeling we will be boxing and storing a number of his things until a later time.

All of us are feeling numb. Some of us want to cry but can't. Some of us feel we should be feeling sadder but we don't. Sometimes we will express being thankful we are no longer having to care 24/7 for David and then we feel guilty. We try to remember happier days but we get stuck thinking about the last few weeks of David's life. We are told this is normal. I don't like this normal but there isn't much I can do about it. So we keep talking with each other, we hug each other a lot more, I hear over and over again, "I love you", and we give each other permission to cry. Even one day at a time is overwhelming. Pray we hold on to each other, to our hope of eternity, for healing, and that the ripples of David's life will continue to impact many for Christ.