Monday, December 8, 2014

How are you?

I hate this question.

I hate that people use this as a greeting, "Hi, how are you?"
I don't want to respond "good" or "fine."  It feels disloyal to my daughter.  And I'm pretty sure they don't expect me to answer "fucking terrible."

When people who know our situation ask this question, I usually respond "hanging in there" with a fake, tight-lipped smile.  I'd rather respond "the worst I've ever been in my life."  

My sister texts me and asks "how are you?"  I respond "the same."
I am the same.  I am not getting better.  I am not getting over this.

One of my least favorite things is when the daycare teachers, who know very well what happened to our family only a month ago, exclaim cheerily, "Have a wonderful day!" when I walk out the door.  I want to turn around and smack them.  Turn around and tell them, how I wish I was like all the other parents here, on my way to work.   But instead I am going home to mourn my daughter.  Please stop telling me to have a wonderful fucking day.

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