One week

It has been a week, and it still hurts. I still catch myself looking down on walking into a room at home to make sure I'm not about to step on the cat. I still expect him to jump up on the bed at night.

I was at college when my father died - although the disruption to my life was great, my day-to-day existance after the funeral was much as it had been before I got the news. This time the disruption is smaller, but far closer to home.