Well, almost.

Almost made it through a day without crying. Almost. I wonder when that will happen? I feel so dehydrated that I'm amazed that I still have tears.
I did make it through church without crying. It was a close call once or twice, but I did it. Not that I think that's something to accomplish, just something notable.
Daughter #3 asked me when the feeling of "waking up from this" would be over. I had no answers. I told her that I wasn't sure, but that maybe it would slowly happen so that you don't think it so many times in one day. I'm already getting there, but the kids are not. I haven't lost my father.  Yet.  I have no answers for them.  My heart is broken from being torn in half and it also hurts for them.  They have lost the most important man in their life.  And there's nothing I can do to make that hurt go away.  I can't kiss away this boo-boo.  I can't make it all better.  I've never felt so incompetent in my life.
The disbelief is still there but I know that this is my life. The blackness is still out there, surrounding me and ahead of me, but the past two days it has become a lighter shade of black. Barely.
But I guess that's something.