Yesterday marked one month without Ethan, and time after a death has never felt linear to me. However, Ethan's absence feels different. I can't get the moments of my last seeing him out of my head, and it feels like one long day that replays itself over and over again in my mind.

Time is no longer a seamless sequence of events for me. It is a fragmented and disorienting journey, where moments from the past collide with the present, making it hard to move forward. I have one more assignment to finish, and a final paper to complete for my MFT grad school course then I will be finished with the course I was working on when he died.
The school suggested that I take a leave of absence for a bit, but that is not really an option for me because it’s just me and I am unable to push back my graduation date. Taking care of Caitlin is my top priority, and I need a job to support both of us. The sooner I finish the sooner I can start working in my field, you know?! 

Life has a funny way of rebooting right around the time I start to feel stable on my feet again. This pattern has been evident in the past, as my mother passed away right after Terry, and my friend Bea passed away soon after I started grad school. Now, Ethan's loss hits me nearing the end of my degree.

I have grown accustomed to starting anew and rebuilding my life after each loss. However, this time, all I want is to freeze in place. The constant cycle of grief, instability, and new beginnings has become overwhelming.

It feels like a never-ending cycle of pain and loss. I am tired of starting over, of rebuilding, and of facing the prospect of more losses. I want to escape the constant cycle of grief and find a moment of stability where I can breathe and process my emotions.

But for now, I have no choice but to keep moving forward. I will complete my last assignment, write my final paper, and finish the course I was working on when Ethan passed away. From there, I will tackle the last class of my master's program.

I have grown accustomed to starting anew and rebuilding my life after each loss. But how on earth is it possible to start anew and rebuild my life this time without my child? I can't imagine it.