I survived my first week back at work. I survived all the sympathetic looks from my coworkers and all my breakfast regulars telling me, "Oh Anna, I'm really sorry to hear about your father." I've had my good days and my bad days. I treasure the days where I can think about my dad and not start immediately breaking down. Other days, like when I washed some of the clothes that I took out of his closet for the first time? Not so much.
The reality has finally set in. It's overwhelming to be in this situation. Everyone is so used to going home after a funeral and returning to their normal lives. You don't think about all of the stuff that you have to deal with when a loved one dies until you're thrown right into it without a life jacket.
There's the endless amounts of paperwork and benefits and probate and bills on top of bills on top of bills. Thankfully, my only responsibility really right now is going through my dad's mail and sending it to my Uncle Bob, who is handling all of the paperwork for me. I'm fielding all the phone calls: to his work, with his landlords, and back and forth with his friends who are a) concerned about me and how I'm doing and b) helping me in any way they can. My mom has been packing up his apartment and letting me cry to her when missing my dad is just too much to bear.
Today Justin and I are going down to Burlington to help move some things out of my dad's place. I feel like I'm "adulting" very well these days. I've been dealing with phone calls and sitting in voicemail jail all day today. I'm being strong for my dad. That's all I can really do right now.