Grief is a process.
Today was your birthday. But you weren’t here. It’s the first time this date has passed in my lifetime without celebrating another year of your life and ridiculously incorporating St. Patrick’s Day into the mix. Today was emotional, to say in the least. I miss you Dad. And it didn’t feel right not to have you here.
I would be lying if I said I haven’t shed a few extra tears in the past few days as this day was approaching, however, through the renewed pain and sharp reminder of your loss, my mind has been flooded with memories. Memories that make me cry, make me roll my eyes and make me laugh.
The pain of your loss ebbs and flows. It feels and looks differently every single day. While I can absolutely without a doubt say that I am in a better place than I was in the first week after losing you, it doesn’t mean I’m “healed” or “over it”. I think anyone who has truly dealt with this type and level of grief can relate when I say that I will never be “over it”. I can continue to move forward. I can move on with life and embrace all that it and God has for me. My heart will heal over, but will heal over with scar tissue. There won’t be a day I don’t think of something to ask you or wish you could see your grandchildren blossoming into amazing little humans.
Although I will never understand your early departure and miss you every single day, I am beyond grateful for the years we had with you and the many, many memories we have. You were definitely one of a kind and we are so blessed to have had 56 years of you on this Earth.
I am working through this grief of mine. And I am in a good place. A happy place. A God place. But grief is a process…and it’s only just begun.
I’ll never stop missing you. Until we meet again Daddy. Happy Birthday ❤️🍀