This past week, a wonderful man left this world. His paternal presence was a safe harbor and home in this season of my life. I don’t leave myself much room to daydream these days but I had such a strong wish for you to meet him and grow up with him in your life. He was a teacher to everyone in his life. Whether you asked to be taught or not, he would bestow a lesson. I dreamed up all the lessons and love he’d give to you. My future memories had me quietly obeserving these lessons. You deeply engaged and then hopelessly distracted. Him lovingly patient with your little fury of life and energy. Future memories are daydreams now…

Grief affects everyone differently. You’ll hear this a lot because it’s true. As much as we all are little ants going in the same circle, we have our personal detours and this happens to be one that’s more common than others.

I think this is because it’s not as common so it’s harder to mimic a socially correct way to grieve. It’s also such an uncomfortable feeling that no one wants to define it for someone else. It’s a sacred, untouched pain.

For me, I can never face it head on. Time and again, I burry it beneath the surface. Sometimes the ignorance is easy and sometimes it’s banging on the door that no one else can hear. A smile pressed on my face while I avoid the internal alarms that will eventually drown out all ability to function.

For me, I feel it most when the minutia of life doesn’t make sense. You should have been there. You would have said that. I walk in the door expecting to see your shoes and they’re not in their spot. The stark contrast of realizing the little comforts of your presence in my life are no longer in their place, it breaks me and I have to let the grief in.

Despite the hurt, grief is a gift. Every memory that shocks you with pain, is a tribute to the person who gave it to you. It’s a reminder that they gave you the most beautiful part of being a human — to love and to be loved in return.

Writing when the feeling is right.