You know what's rough?
When I'm watching TV and something reminds me of a memory or an inside joke and I turn to do that knowing smile, like to see if Rick noticed it too. And no one is here.
It takes so long for our bodies to recognize that something is gone. My head still turns to smile at him or share a laugh when I hear or see something we'd both find funny. Even as my head is turning as if to look at him, I know he is not here. I know he is dead. But my body still hasn't completely gotten the message.
My body is still adjusting. It remains on one side of the bed every night, even though I know that I have the whole king size bed to myself. My body, even while asleep, can't break the routine of sleeping on "my" side.
Our bodies are on autopilot fairly often... they adjust to other people over time... especially to the person with whom we share our life, our home, our bed, our car. Our bodies get in a groove. Our bodies are conditioned to react to the other person. They adopt mannerisms that help communicate with the other person. They have a memory bank of their own.
My brain moves onward, understanding what has happened, adapting to my new life. My body is a bit behind, lagging as it tries to catch up.