Last night when I was watering the roses in the front yard of the Castle I was not expecting it. I had a wonderful weekend. But one minute there was water coming out of the hose, the next there was water coming out of my eyes. All because of a fleeting thought...
'Dad won't ever see these roses.'
And he won't.
And it makes me sad.
And it has been a while (a good two weeks at least!) since thoughts of Dad have made me actually cry. Sure, I have been sad, but not to the point of tears.
One step forward and two fucking steps back. When will I start to just move forward? Ever?
Hmmm... I'm having second thoughts, perhaps there isn't anything funny about grief at all?
Today I am grateful for my sister. In fact, every single day I am grateful for my sister.
Preaching to the choir Jo. My Pat and your Dad probably see the roses just fine and wonder what we're banging on about...
ReplyDeleteI don't think grief is the linear process that we wish it was. My grandmother died almost 2 years ago and I'm still missing her every day. I look at my children and wish that she could see them and what I'm doing now. It's hard.
ReplyDelete(((hugs)))