My mother and I have been able to spend a few days with each other without bursting into tears each hour. I was quite worried about that happening as when we speak on the phone there are always tears. By the end of each conversation we apologize to each other for causing the tears.
I'm not saying that we haven't cried. We have. On Sunday my mom found a cork in her jacket pocket. Dad would always hand her the cork after their bottle of wine was opened at their favorite Greek restaurant. It was a happy memory but was still a reminder of times that won't be repeated.
Today Mom had to tell me again about the afternoon that Dad died. She hears the sound of him hitting the floor each time she walks into the kitchen of her home. I wanted to ask her to stop talking about it. I didn't. She needs to talk. I can at least listen even if I am uncomfortable hearing it. She has to live it each day.