7 Sundays ago, my normal changed. I’m o.k…. but I’m wishing I was normal.
What I wouldn’t give to be normal. But i don’t even know what normal is anymore. I guess I was never normal, but now, I’m a part of this weird club, this group of people who’s normal isn’t what i want to be my normal. Now, i am without a parent, without my daddy, without a father. Now, my normal isn’t the same. Normal used to be waiting by the phone for that call, waiting to here from my mom about my dad, about my grandfather (papa). Normal used to be worrying, saying Misheberach. Normal used to be calling my daddy and discussing the texts I was learning, calling my Papa to hear the pride in his voice and the smile on his face (yes, you could here him smile when he spoke). Normal used to be wishing for the pain to stop, but appreciating the time I had.
And then, within a month, normal isn’t normal. I don’t have to have my cellphone with me 24/7. It’s freeing and terrifying. Normal used to be going home as much as I could because i didn’t know how much time I had left with them, and now, I know.
Now, Normal hurts, normal is being sad, is having flashbacks of those final moments in the hospital, of the days i sat staring at my phone, hoping for good news, and knowing it wouldn’t be. Now, normal is feeling alone, angry, sad, scared. Now, normal is wishing for the moment where i wake up from this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad dream.
Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. Now, normal is gone, and I know what i had. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t happy all the time or even fair, but it was normal. All I want is to be NORMAL!

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