I, Robot

There was a science fiction movie a few years ago called I, Robot. It was set in the future and, frankly, that's all I know about the plot. The film title came to me today when I realized I was acting like a living, breathing robot.

I have built up an invisible shield while going through the motions of... well, everything. I went to work and kept busy each moment knowing that the emotional side of me could not handle an idle mind. Thankfully, I had plenty to do to prepare for a few days out of the office. Maybe people thought I wasn't grieving. They were right. I'm not. Yet.

Got home and rushed to make supper. Then our dear friends Mike and Christine came over for awhile to check up on me and bring us all ice cream. Did I mention they're the best friends ever??

When they left, I got busy ironing funeral clothes for the guys and figuring out what to pack for myself. I didn't even bring the suitcase up from the basement yet. With each step closer to departing for "home" and what awaits me up there, a small crack appears in my invisible shield.

But I ignore it. I just want to keep pretending I can hold myself together.

I want to be a robot. I don't want to feel just yet. Because feeling is painful. Part of my heart is missing and it hurts.

I want to be a robot. I want to be tough as steel so I can support my mom when I see her tomorrow. Though I suspect she is using the same coping mechanism, keeping super busy with funeral plans so she doesn't have to think about "it" or feel either.

I want to be a robot. But I suspect when I see her, both our shields will come crashing down and our tears will short-circuit everything. That's gonna hurt.

But we'll all heal eventually.

Because we're human.