A friend talked about this, she said she's not treated as an outcast, but as someone on a different plane of existence. And it hit home. I know my friends truly care about me, and I so appreciate that, but it seems sometimes that I'm being grilled. "Are you going to the beach? What do you do for fun? Why don't you volunteer, it will help" -- it makes me frustrated, like I have to explain myself. And I don't want to. How can I explain this slow, quiet process that is taking place, inside myself? That takes TIME. These questions weren't posed to me when Joe was alive, obviously because it was assumed my life was complete. I was married for 24 years, I've shared in life's gains and losses - I'm a grown woman. I'll do these things when I want to do them, not because I feel I should do them. I'm not quite sure what I'm even venting about here, but I'm glad I vented..hugs, Marsha
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