Couple of weeks ago we lost my grandmother; she had been in the hospital for the last couple of months so it was not unexpected. With her passing the familiar ‘cry but cannot’ sensation returned. The day of the visitation, I went in alone at first, then with my wife; afterwards we walked through a light sprinkle to where they laid my grandpa to rest so I can clear my head.

Later I stayed up until 2am talking with my Uncle; the thing with talking to him is he makes me think. The subjects of times to die, how people are placed in key moments, and purging the emotional/mental cancer inside. I made sure to take notes so I can think of it all.

After we returned home, it felt like all the stages of grief cycled through in the course of days. Anger, sadness, and depression; I was in less of a mood for people than usual. I left the deaf church at lunch to take a short walk to the coffee shop so I could be alone. Then the one-year mark arrived and we launched balloons in memorial to my godson. The last time I did that I barely wrote anything, this time I wrote a note just between him and me.

I know he will never see it; however, it did feel very liberating afterwards. The next day we were in the old room and Casey found my jump rope he loved to play with. It brought back good memories, something I had not had in a long time. It seemed like a block had lifted a bit so I do not see all the bad.


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