I am on autopilot

I am on autopilot. I still slept sitting up. I watched the bed waiting for signs of noise, waking every three hours panicking that I had missed the appointed time for the next dose of medication. Feeling the urge during my sleep to go double check, arms, legs, temperature, fluid output, oxygen intake, facial expressions, and sounds being made.

I know there is no one there. I was an active participant in the care of the end of life. I witnessed the strength, beauty, tragedy, joy, and ultimate sorrow that comes from loving with your whole heart and I'm here to help pick up the pieces after.

So, now there needs to be a different kind of autopilot. The one that walks the remaining loved ones through a maze of procedures that they are unaware of how to traverse alone. Part of the survivor process you only learn by living through.

The mundane will eventually trade places with the sadness. Life will eventually move on. But for now, I am on autopilot.