One Year Of Grief

Grief is haunted hallways and bedrooms with a deafening silence and echoes of memories. It’s the awareness of just how important memories are leaving you simultaneously thirsty for moments happening right now and leaving you drowning in moments that have passed. Laughter defiantly slipping from your lips that are lined with grief. Silent moments that are far from quiet, but instead are deafening from what-ifs. A lesson in how precious people and things are all the while reminding you of what all you had taken for granted.

You are loved and missed. In a year we discovered that you were the centerpiece of our family, the glue that held us all together. In your absence, the boys have stepped in and worked hard to stand in for you as much as possible. They replaced the porch roofing on granny’s house. Taken care of mom to give her as little worry as possible. Taken my car for tune-ups and help me whenever I need it. We think of you every day. The kids all miss you too. You are still so loved and you are far from forgotten. We have cried and laughed a lot, sometimes both simultaneously unsure if we are laughing until we cry or just crying through the laughter. Your memories and presence have seeped into every crevice of our being. You are with us every passing moment, through the monotony of our day-to-day and with us on new adventures. From time to time I’m lucky to have you make your presence known. From pop-ins to dream visits. People are skeptical of course, but I felt you ride shotgun with me. Had you spend a day with me at work. You pop in the house on occasion and you are still making friends in the after. While I am grateful for these moments, we all know it is not the same as a physical presence and flowing two-way conversation. I am sure you are finding plenty of shenanigans to get into and you have been catching up with a lot of people who were already there waiting for you. You lived your life in a way people say they want to, but never quite manage to. You left no stone unturned, thank you for that, for teaching us to be bold, and fearless, to take chances and take no prisoners.

Published by izzysconfessions

I was born and raised in the smallest of towns in Southwest Virginia. A town that is extraordinarily active, yet a town that is like it's very own little mini Bible belt. My dad was Baptist, my mom pentecostal, and I'm paranormal. I would venture to say it is somewhat of a family trait. One that is met with equal acceptance and curiosity as much as it is met with skepticism. Individually and collectively so much has been experienced and witnessed at times to such a degree that one might wonder how on earth there is room for doubt. I dont have all the answers, I do not have it all figured out. Im as human as everyone else relying heavily many mornings on a lot of coffee and a little Jesus. In fact, I can't decide what I want for dinner most days. One constant is I cannot go a single day without chocolate. Pour a cup of coffee, or a little tea and whiskey and join me in my confessions of a haunted freak.

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