Update 8/10/26

At 11:03pm, Wednesday August 5th Karl was welcomed into Heaven, with his family by his side.  

Reyna, Aria and I have been surrounded by so much love and support from near and far.  My “worker bees”, as they’ve been lovingly labeled, have been buzzing around behind the scenes making this transition as seamless as possible for us.  Arranging meals, transportation for Aria to and from dance, covering August dance tuition so I didn’t even have to think about it, and so, so much more.  To say I am grateful is an understatement.  I think I’ll call them C’s Bees. :) 

Reyna and I have decided together that a funeral was not Karl’s style.  He’d hate something formal with him as the center of attention. Instead we will be planning an intimate gathering of some sort around his birthday mid-November.  We ran the idea past Karl’s family that flew out, and they felt that aligned with him as well.

As we’ve been navigating this, I’m not sure how much is the “peace beyond understanding” I’ve been praying for, and how much is just shock. I’m kind of just floating through the days detached and numb. I have moments of worrying about the numbness and start internally spiraling.  Then I find myself reassuring myself that this is normal - a defense mechanism.  My brain is protecting me as I process this.  Because I’ve lived it before that self talk seems to hit different. 

Your mind does strange things in times like these.  Literally, one of the first thoughts I had as I wrapped my mind around the reality of what was happening was “Well, now what side of the bed will I sleep on?”.  

When I had to come home without Brandon I could not bear the thought of seeing his side of the bed empty, so I took his side.  Now what do I do? Same house, same bedroom, same problem.  Now both sides represent loss - just 12 years apart.

As I find myself just “keepin’ on”, I feel a little out of body.  Able to acknowledge that I know I am in shock right now. Awareness that I need to take advantage of this numbness to get shit done before the shock wears off and grief overtakes. It’s strange to be analyzing my own experience in this way.  

At the moment I’m in a “Ok, God - wtf?” kind of mindset.  I want to trust in the plan, and I know God will provide.  But I’ll be honest with you and say I’m struggling to understand what that could even look like at this point?  I feel defeated.

I know I’ll find hope, just not right now. 

This song….

https://open.spotify.com/track/2eP2EBzjAoy34dnEB9CtF8?si=s30B71nZQEGCSFQl91KkNg&utm_source=copy-link