Still There...

The the thing with grieving is it's never a straight line. It feels like it sometimes. Like you are doing fine. But it's always there. And it sneaks up on you and you never know if it's going to be a little sad or a wallop over the head sad. But it's there. And it's weird.

It's weird because of how sneaky it is. And how different it is each time it shows up.

Now, I know why it showed up, I mean, it's peak yuck season. May and June are both rough. July is a breather. August and the first part of September suck. October is great. November is a mixed bag. So I mean, I've been aware of the days. We got our annual come to the Your Dad's Still Dead picnic invitation even though Jack's been gone 19 years so maybe don't eat the potato salad. (I mock it, but honestly, the group that handles family outreach for military members who died in service is outstanding. One of the few veterans groups that actually seems to care about their mission, even during non election years)

But as I mentioned up there, Jack's been gone 19 years this year. My dad has been gone 15 years this month. Both of our mothers have been gone 6 years. Time has passed. And I've tried to acknowledge the moments this year but not dwell for any amount of time. Like you can't help but notice when the date is right there. In February I had a brief, oh it's Kevin's birthday pause. In May I hadn't noticed the date at all until the end of the day on my dad's birthday. Those sort of things. Yes, the birthdays, anniversaries and everything else are still there but I'm fine. And I can now notice them without really having it affect me.

Last night I had a dream about a tree in my backyard. There was a branch that was sort of dying off and needed to be cut down before it fell. My dad decided he could do it. He climbed the tree and was getting ready to walk out on a different branch to get leverage to push the dying branch down. The branch he was going to walk on broke off in his hands and sort of peeled part of the other branch with it, so the big, heavy, dying branch was now holding on by the barest of margins. I was just telling him to be careful when the whole tree fell over with him still in it.

My subconscious and conscious mind didn't quite sync up as I was waking up and I thought about telling Brent and thinking I shouldn't tell my mom about the dream because she'd get worried...

Or you know, because the family tree is already dead and knocked over, it doesn't really matter who I tell.

The image of my dad being in the tree when it fell over is still hanging out in my head. So maybe it doesn't matter how I think I'm doing but how I am doing and we just deal with that.

It's strange. Grief is strange. Loss is strange. The ripples it leaves behind are strange. I'm still fine. Really. It's been a long time. I've learned how to process it all. And where to put the unresolved issues that everyone has when family members die. But it's all still there, and sometimes it's going to force its way out. So now I've acknowledged it and I'm ready to face the rest of June.

I think...