I find myself going places in the car and not wanting to get out of the car. I come back home and I don't want to get out of the car. I think it's the only time I spend reflecting. 

Chronic tiredness from Long Covid plus the immunosupressing meds for my Crohn's is slowing me down but everything just seems a massive effort. I am dealing with the paperwork following my father's death but it's not like I don't have downtime. 

I think part of the issue is that I feel a bit that he's been squeezed out. Apart from the paperwork my mother has low vision and it's clear Dad did alot of stuff for her because she simply can't read stuff online, her emails or the letters she's being sent.There's always alot to do and most days I spend a couple of hours with her trying to fix things etc.

I caught myself taking the bins out for her and as I went through the garage I had to stop. He died taking the bins out and I trundle the bins  over the exact place where he fell and I saw him that awful night. It somehow feels disrespectful that event gets somehow lost in the rush to get the bins out or in. The sheer banality overshadows that momentous event.

It helps a bit to express it and to write it down here.