Normal

What do you know…all this time, I’ve been using Chandler’s calculator at work. I never noticed his name on the back until last week.

This is another one of those things. You’re going about your day almost as if it were your old normal. Then it slaps you in the face like on that old TV commercial for Skin Bracer aftershave. Snap out of it — this isn’t normal! Not even close.

This is not a normal day. It’s a day just like the past 258 days. A day that could punch me in the gut. That could send a tidal wave of emotion that lasts a few minutes or a thunderstorm that pummels me for hours. Or longer. A day that could bring pure laughter and joy, a sense that all is well. Only to be followed by the weight of that single thought — but he’s not here. I never know what a day will bring. Just adding up some tuition numbers and there it is. This was Chandler’s calculator.

I realize a new normal will come with time. Or maybe not. I really don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m totally speculating.

My life became normal again years after my mom passed away. And after I lost my dad three years ago, I slowly settled into the reality that I didn’t need to worry about him falling or call to check in. He was 94. There was a sense of normalcy about losing my dad at 94. It’s never easy, and you don’t want to lose your parent…ever. But using the word “normal” to describe life after losing Daddy didn’t seem like a foreign language.

Nothing seems normal about losing your child. I don’t care how young or old they are. So maybe the word for describing life without Chandler will never be “normal.” Maybe it will. Who knows.

I just know that right now, nothing feels normal.

Not yet.