Leaning into Grief

I don’t mind the quietness at night. It slowly eeks in and fills my mind with questions only God knows the answer to. Grief is an interesting beast.

I was at an icecream place tonight back home in Raleigh, and all I wanted to do was stair at that empty chair across from me. I kept my head down and ate my icecream, and I suppose the only thing that kept my already watery eyes from crying was the fact I didn’t want to make a scene.

I’m 22. Another 22 years and I’ll be 44. Life zooms by. Some days I wish I could go back to being a kid again. The thing is- I’ll always be the same kid deep down. I’ll always relish the idea of having a dad, and I think there will always be a part of me who will wonder what life would be like if my dad was still around.

As I walk outside, Christmas music softly hits my eardrums.

“I’ll be home for Christmas.”

You’re already home, dad.

I’m the one who still gets to journey on in this adventure. I’m not sure exactly how yet, but I refuse to think this period of mourning and depression is all in vain.

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