Last weekend, April 22^nd, marked one month since my father’s death. It was a rather emotional day for me. It’s hard to wrap my head around. I couldn’t decide whether it felt longer or shorter than a month. On that day, I finally put up the windchimes with his name on them that my friends from church had given me and it was cold enough that I could wear the hoodie my father’s friend had made with my father’s picture on it.

Work continues to come with awkward moments. Last week, I realized I really needed to hurry up and get licensed in federal court. One of the banks we represent needs a proof of claim filed in a bankruptcy. I asked my former partner if I could file under him, but he had let his federal license lapse. So, I had to reach out to some of my father’s friends to see if they would sign off as references for me to get licensed in federal court. They were willing to do so, but it was still a bit of a panic. Also, I started crying because my father was there when I got sworn in for state court, so the fact that he won’t be here when I get sworn in at federal court it me hard.

I’m still feeling like I’m drowning at work. I’ve been going into the office at 6:00am a couple days a week and working from home when I’m not too tired, but continue to feel like I’m in over my head. I started crying on the phone with an attorney earlier this week. I had completely forgotten to do something she had asked me to do about a month ago. I kept apologizing and said my law partner had passed away and I was still trying to get my head above water. She was incredibly kind and said if her law partner had passed, she would be completely lost. I told her he was also my father, which made it difficult on a personal level also. She said when her father passed away, she took three months off work. I wish I could’ve done that. I didn’t ask any follow-up questions, but I bet she must’ve had some sort of corporate job because if you own your own business, you can’t take three months off.

 I had a complex hearing for one of my Children’s Division cases last Wednesday. We had numerous witnesses appearing and were making significant constitutional arguments. Children’s Division sent an attorney down from the state capitol to help me because this case was deemed so complex and important. I told my husband, “I know its probably a shot at my competence, but I am really excited he’s coming down to try the case with me. It will be almost like trying a case with my father.”

It did feel almost like trying a case with my father because this man was probably around my father’s age and had a wealth of knowledge. He was able to work out a settlement between the parties that I’m sure I would not have accomplished. I know it may seem a bit chauvinistic to think that an older white man is needed for authority on a subject, but I just really appreciated someone with more knowledge and experience than me being there. I’ve only been handling cases for Children’s Division for a couple months, so I very much feel like a baby attorney still.

I cry every day, but usually only cry in my car. So, I’m keeping it together in public. I talked to my cousin the other night. He has the same last name as my father and works in healthcare. He said he keeps running into people who knew my father and its hitting him really hard. I told him I get it. Every time I go to court it seems someone says something to me about my father.

I haven’t been writing as much. I keep feeling like I’m too tired, but then I don’t end up sleeping great. I think I need to re-focus on making a commitment to get the thoughts out of my head. Tomorrow, my mother, my brother, and I are starting a grief support group called GriefShare. It will be at a church that is very close to the house my paternal grandparents had. I thought that was rather fitting. It took some convincing to get my brother to sign up, but I’m glad he did.

My brother and his family have moved in with my mother. She said she likes having them at the house. I think it’s nice for her to come home to his young kids. They are very sweet. My mother and her brother are going to help my brother get a house built. They’re hoping the home will be completed in about a year.

Today, a month after my father’s visitation, I finally got around to repotting the plants I ended up with. Some of them do not look like they are doing great. Hopefully the new pot, increased sunlight, and continued watering will bring them back to life. I don’t know anything about plants. Previously, I’ve only been able to grow cactus and aloe vera. Since these plants have sentimental value, I really hope I can keep them alive.

My kids and I have visited my father’s grave every Sunday since he was buried. We bring fresh flowers every Sunday and the kids seem to love that. We had previously been visiting my father pretty much every Sunday after he was diagnosed, so it seems fitting to keep the tradition going.

On our way back from the cemetery I heard, “Dancing with my Eyes Closed” by Ed Sheeran and it had me crying. The lyrics just seemed so fitting for what I have been going through lately. The timelapse seems kind of wild to me at this point, but I am going to try to recommit to writing at least once a week to keep these thoughts from building up in my head, keeping me up at night.