I am surrounded by computer nerds. That’s right, I said computer NERDS. I say that in the spirit of knowing that nerds rule the world. Peter went to college for computer engineering, as did my brother, Jason. My dear friend, Rebekah, a self-proclaimed nerd, knows more about RAM and GIGS and who knows what else than anyone I know. She could run circles around me with all her computer babble.

So it’s safe to say that if I ever have a computer issue, I am covered.

But the one thing that I DO know about computers is that when things are just not working or they are working VERY slow, a reboot can do wonders. A restart seems to shut down all the things that are making the computer work slow and corrects the problem.

Life at times needs a reboot. And that is just where I am. My brain, emotions, and heart were all crashing. I even could hear “WARNING! WARNING! OVERLOAD!” ringing in my head.
I have never been a crier. I prefer not to cry in public and even at home, it has always been a rare occurrence. But these days, the tears flow fast and furious. Like the Sunday I sat in Sunday school and cried through the entire lesson. Or when we were standing in line ordering dinner and Peter had to say it was for four. Even simply driving by myself brings on the waterworks.
I’ve heard people say that crying actually shows your strength because you are willing to let out your emotion. But I say, in my case, it doesn’t feel like strength because I am not CHOOSING to cry. It just happens. It’s as natural as passing gas after a cheesy meal. No control. (Molly would have been proud that I just put that in. 😉
Some days, I just need a reboot. I know our bodies naturally do that when we go to bed, but I feel that my reboot needs to involve pulling out the plug, blowing in the outlet, counting to five and trying again.
The lesson that I am learning is that this thing called grief is going to take much longer than expected. Not that I will ever be done grieving. I know I will never, ever be done. But I mean these raw, open wounds will take longer to close up and begin to scar at a much later date. And you know what, I am beginning to be OK with that.
I will continue to reboot when necessary, but unlike my laptop, I can’t make this better with the click of a bottom. The real answer, time….
So, if you see me crying in the grocery store or walking down the sidewalk, don’t ignore me. But please don’t pity me. Just acknowledge me and know you did the right thing. And if you add in a joke involving bathroom humor, you might make it much better. Again, Molly would have loved it.

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