You know the head doctors initially broke grief into five stages: Shock, Anger, Denial, Bargaining and Acceptance. Those same fools said that grief generally lasts four years. Not really true.It's been six years and yet I know when I draw my last breath, I'll still be grieving.
And those stages? I've been through all of them and have started over. I'm back to being angry.
You should be here. I need you. There's this whole shitty pandemic going on. No one is really sure what to do. The safest thing seems to be isolation, but at what cost? How many milestones are gonna be missed? How long will we be separated from loved ones? I know you weren't a scientist, but you'd have answers or at least know how to make things better. You always did. It was like your thing.
Damn, I miss you. We all do.
You should be here. You'd be so proud of all of your grandkids. They're fantastic adults. And Hopper and Rowan? The coolest kids EVER.
You're missing it all.
Or are you? Are you the reason none of us has caught this stupid virus? Are you keeping close watch over our little army of nurses? Are you smiling to see Robyn run? Do you laugh when Patrick and Lee rescue another litter of puppies? You always were a sucker for puppies.
I've found the pennies. Every day since the beginning of May. I've seen the cardinals too. Every time I turn around, there's a sign, but it's not the same.
I still miss you.
