July has been an interesting month.

I decided, after six months, that I could finally function well enough to go back to work, at least part time.

Additionally, I’ve finally been able to deal with the majority of paperwork that comes with death, and a lot of the projects that I wanted to get under control this year are either finished or will be soon.

Although the kids’ schedules are already starting to ramp up with preseason activities, I know that once they are back in school full time, that I need to have something else on my plate, or I will spend a lot of days hiding under the covers.

It’s a weird thing though. In the past, a lot of my identity was wrapped up in my job, or jobs even. It was important to me to have a career that challenged me and gave me a chance to grow. Now, it hardly seems important.

Maybe if I were a brain surgeon or something I might feel differently, but as I look back at all the late night meetings and phone calls I’d taken over the years, I would give anything to have that time back that I should have been making dinner, or even doing laundry, walking the dogs, or spending time with my family.

Steve and I had always planned to work as hard as we could so we could retire as early as we could, and we were on the path to achieving that within the next five or six years. We didn’t want to be those people that retire at 62 and die a few years later. Of course, fate had other plans.

I’ve thought long and hard about going back to school to learn a new skill, or find a more fulfilling career path, or even just changing lanes and applying for a new job, but this family has had enough upheaval for a little while, and at this point, I think it’s best if I stick with what I know. We’ll see how it goes.

One thing is for sure, I am missing my live-in career coach. Steve was my sounding board for bad days at the office. Although we worked in different industries, our workplace culture was similar and his advice over the years was invaluable.

On my first day back in the office, I picked up the phone 50 times to text him with reports on how my day was going. It did not make for a good day at work. But, it seems like I’ll be able to settle into a routine, and once I get my legs back under me, I think this will prove to have been a good move. If nothing else, I have to get out of bed and brush my teeth every day.

As I’m trying to regain my old sense of self, A launched himself into a whole new adventure. Last month, he attended a regional state youth leadership conference, and at the end of four days spent at Susquehanna University, he earned a scholarship and paid travel expenses to attend the world conference in Chicago. This meant flying out there himself, and spending a week at Loyola University.

We talked about it a lot, and I just wasn’t ready to let him fly the coop so quickly, so we agreed that I would fly out with him, and get him where he was going, and he would then fly home on his own after the conference was over. It also gave me the chance to spend a few days in Chicago, visiting a brand-new city, and catching up with an old college friend.

I’ve come to appreciate places that Steve and I never visited together. Wherever Steve went, he made it a more interesting place. Although I’d lived in Boston for years and visited it dozens of times after, it was the trips with Steve, and later with the kids that are the most memorable for me.

Visiting Ocean City without him was one of the worst days that I’ve had, even though the kids enjoyed it. So, being in a place where I couldn’t picture him everywhere I turned had its advantages.

At the same time, I found myself hearing his voice in my head, making observations as I people watched, offering his opinions on the architectural tour, making fun of the modern art installations at the Art Institute.

As much as I dislike hot dogs, I know Steve would have had to have tried them, so I did, too. Again, I felt like picking up my phone to send him pictures and thoughts that ran through my head. It was easy to imagine him at home with the other two kids and the dogs, leaving all the dishes in the sink, ordering pizza every night, and grumbling because he had to get everyone everywhere they needed to be and he didn’t have any time to fish.

Instead, I was treated to almost nonstop text messages from the other two kids, playing the “when are you coming home” game almost as well as they play the “are we there yet” game. The Village had my back and they were in good hands, for the few days that I was gone, but all of us obviously have a little more separation anxiety these days.

I tried my best to focus on being present and enjoying time with an old friend and trying new things. Enjoying isn’t really a word that I feel has a lot of meaning to me right now, but as we dredged our memory banks from our college years, and played “what ever happened to so and so,” shades of simpler times started to take over, and for the first time in months, I think I might have relaxed enough to get a good night’s sleep. Chicago was a beautiful city and I’m looking forward to heading back there with the kids at some point to do it all over again.

In a way, July was the most normal month we’ve had, with trying to balance work, sports, house work, and a little bit of summer fun. We all do better when we’re busy, and focused on accomplishing something. A has certainly gained a lot of confidence, and independence on his adventures, and G and E learned a little bit about independence themselves. I know we are still a long way from healing, but July felt like a step in the right direction.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.