Monday was 5 months.

Sunday was Father's Day. I tried to make it special for Dad, but I was never great at special days like that. Evan was. He was always good at remembering dates. I remember him asking what I wanted for my birthday last year. I replied with my usual "please don't get me anything." He always insisted anyway.

Maybe this is unrelated, but I'm all over the place these days. I was down at the beach earlier today, and took my shoes off so I could feel the sand beneath my feet. This reminded me of a moment in the first couple weeks.

I had stepped out of the side door at my house one day that I was just hysterical and didn't want to be around all the people anymore. My Aunt had been feeding me Xanax that day to keep me calm. I was barefoot and she told me to step outside, where she followed. She told me to feel the grass beneath my feet, and my response was that I didn't feel anything. I really couldn't. I didn't feel alive. Its like you are on the outside, looking in. A very surreal, out of body feeling.

A friend I have made since, who lost a brother in Iraq, said he has felt the same thing, in the sense that nothing affects him like it used to. Job changes, break ups, things that used to get him down seem so insignificant now. He doesn't feel things like he used to. A lot of times I don't feel things like I used to either. It scares me sometimes.

One thing I told Dad in his Father's Day card is that I can't imagine going through this without his love, support, and strength. I don't remember much about the prayer, as the day was a blur, but I do remember that right as we were about to walk out the door of our house, my Dad about to bury his son, we all joined hands, friends and family, and he said the most beautiful prayer.

I was in awe of his strength and faith in God, under the worst imaginable circumstances. One thing is certain- I couldn't have made it through the last few months without either of my parents. Mom and I promised each other the first day or two, we were going to get through this and take care of ourselves and each other. We have to remind each other of that sometimes.

I didn't sleep at all the first night. I was up and down. I tried to rest, but i didn't sleep 1 minute that night. At around 4:30, I went down to my parents room and sat in the chair, watching the sun come up, thinking about the day ahead, wondering how any of us would get through it. I could hear them breathing in their sleep, and I was so grateful and comforted by the fact that they were sleeping. I finally crawled between them.

Sometime later that morning we got a phone call, one of many, asking what they could do. I remember Dad saying just to pray for us, and for the other soldiers still deployed. All I could think of was that Evan was gone. I couldn't believe he had the strength to tell someone to pray for other soldiers in that moment.

I think back to those first few words I uttered- "I can't do this." I truly can't do it alone. But with help from God, my parents, my friends, I can do this. Even when it seems I can't, I am doing it.