I think I went with Michael the Monday before that terrible Thursday.
And that was the last time.
For the first few months after, I didn't sleep. Just couldn't. I was so tired. But I didn't think it fair that I should feel comfortable. That I should rest. I also couldn't go to the grocery store. A great friend told me that I could go years without going to the grocery store. But I couldn't go years without sleep. To choose one. And not the other. To choose not going to the grocery store. And to sleep. Good advice.
Stu goes to the grocery store for us now. Or I pick up the basics from Target. I can shop in their little section, but not Publix. I know. It's weird. Michael was my grocery store partner. I don't like grocery shopping to begin with ... neither did he, really. Together it was fun. We laughed. We timed ourselves to see how much time it would take. But could never remember the last time score.
It seemed that every time we bagged our apples or oranges, we started an avalanche. Same with carrots. We made it a game. Would the carrots jump off the shelf this time? Another silly game that we enjoyed together.
I can't really explain the reason that I can't get past the grocery store parking lot now.
I pull in. I sit in the car. I leave. Without going inside.