Months later, after I’d taken care of all the practical things like paperwork, finding a rental home, and getting us all settled into therapy, we started to find the “new normal” you hear about. We were still hurting and struggling, but the three of us had found a rhythm to our lives and had bonded together even more than before. “The Three Musketeers” I used to call us. We were the only people in the world who knew what we were going through and only we and God could be inside our pain when it was raw. I went through a very difficult period where I was treading water, crying almost non-stop. All the detail things (like mentioned above) were taken care of and I could no longer distract myself with tasks. I was in pain. I was sobbing at night, weeping by day. Lost, begging God to make the pain stop. I didn’t know what was next or how to get there. I only knew that I had to go through this process of grieving, coping, learning, and eventually, moving on better than before. I read encouraging books about survivors of hard things, started writing again, allowed myself to cry, talked and vented and cried with friends, and when the calls and texts stopped at night, it was me and God. That’s when I began to get stronger and eventually felt almost brand new, un-oppressed, hopeful, and at peace with who I was. It was hard work getting to this place.