Tomorrow marks two months since Cassidy died. A lot has happened in those two months. In some ways the pain is muted enough that it feels like forever ago that she died. Many of Cassidy’s possessions have been removed from my home, having kept only those things with sentimental or historical value. And the mood and spirit in the home has changed. Peace prevails now.

In other ways, the loss is still acute. My youngest daughter is starting to remember good things about Cassidy. She told me today that she misses her mom’s hugs. There are little reminders everywhere which keep the emotional wounds tender.

On June 5th, Cassidy’s birthday, I visited her grave. It was an interesting experience. I blogged about it in post #6. After that day, I did not have a desire to visit the grave again until this past week. I wasn’t trying to avoid it, I just didn’t feel the inclination to go. When I visited this week I took a guitar, sang some songs that Cassidy and I always played together, and left. Unlike previous times, I did not feel Cassidy’s presence there.

This morning, as I was getting ready for church, I felt a subtle change in myself. For the first time since Cassidy passed away, I feel single. This doesn’t mean I want to go hit the club (in full disclosure a club is not a place I would ever want to go under any circumstances) or that I am ready to start dating, it just sank in that I am alone.

One of the first realizations was that raising my youngest daughter falls entirely on me now. This is a strange thought since I have been her sole caretaker for years now, but there was always a slight hope that Cassidy might get better and might actually be able to help. What I realized this morning was that I am on my own with no hope of help coming. It was a little sobering. I feel the weight of that responsibility.

During church, my daughter sat with a family she is friends with, and I sat alone on the back row. Also on that row was a member of my congregation who never married. The two middle-age single guys who don’t fit in anywhere socially sitting alone on the back row. This has been the seating arrangement at church for weeks, but today I finally internalized the reality. I am not on the back row temporarily, this is my new social standing. I guess I can live with that.