“No way. Kindergarten already?”
That’s what I said to myself numerous times scrolling through Facebook seeing all of the cute smiles and big backpacks in the back to school photos this August. And then it hit me…
These sweet smiles are all of the same bundles of joy I saw announced while scrolling Facebook as a visitor at the hospital myself. 2017 was a lot of time spent keeping my dad company. The hardest year watching such happy moments for others while my world was crumbling as the months went on.
October 3rd… five years since my dad passed. My grief is in Kindergarten. This year feels like quite a milestone, just as that first year of school. When grief is brand new, it’s like a newborn baby. Keeping me up at night, I’m clueless on how I’m going to do this. Grumpy. Irritable. Lots of crying. But we slowly got here, to five years later.
My grief is now matured enough to know its triggers, but still needs a big hug and a juice box (iced coffee) on a tough day. Just like the sweet littles starting their elementary journey this year, my grief is still learning to tie its shoes, but is gaining its footing amongst the other responsibilities of life.
Five years seems to be hard in a whole new way because it feels like a long time. And that hurts to know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen and hugged my dad. It’s enough time for a child to be born and go to school. Enough time to enter a new decade. Enough time to lose others along the way since then.
But this is still the loss that’s shaped me. It’s the one that continues to teach me and that I will continue to grow with as a daughter, wife, friend, and mom. so while my grief may know its ABC’s and 123’s by now, it really is just getting started, knowing we’ll never fully graduate.
I miss you every single day, Dad. Go Braves ♥️