Grief is a four letter word

Ehh close enough. Loss is a four letter word, and it’s just as dirty.

A friend of mine shared a poignant post earlier today: “Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers at the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in the hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.” Jamie Anderson.

I don’t know Jamie Anderson but their words speak volumes.

It’s now the second week my father has been gone, and the loss hasn’t dulled. If anything, it’s heightened in the little things that are missing, such as the random email i would get saying “hey putz what dimensions do you want the bookshelf to be”? (Although in the later years he’s replaced putz with “my love” as he clearly softened with age); or the comments on my photos “so chubby i luv it”; or the text with picture of weird animals he had caught in the yard to be released in the preserve, that i don’t get anymore. It’s heightened when something he would appreciate happens that i can’t tell him about – that love, with no place to go.

There are other outlets for it though. Since my mother has unblocked my phone on her cell (accidentally, something my father would appreciate tremendously) SHE is the recipient of these texts. My poor husband catches it even more, and i squeeze the crap out of my babies – but it doesn’t dull or remove the pain that’s ever present.

We lost another family member this last week. My fathers best friend, Sweetie, passed away. I’m sure the two of them are raising hell in Heaven, smoking doobs (we all knew, Dad) as they are watching over us. There’s little comfort in that too, but maybe one day we’ll feel it.

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