Day 932

 Death crept up on me. The sun was shining. A soft breeze, the smell of spring, and my dad, lying lifeless in the grass. We ran out of time and we didn't even know the clock was counting down. We don't have an expiration date stamped on our ass.

It's been 932 days. It isn't any easier. We do our life; our kids go to school, the adults go to work, we navigate the pandemic alongside everyone else. We just have to watch our step. A massive hole was blown in our world. Sometimes we fall in. 

On those days I feel like my eyes may never dry. I just leak from my face continuously, grateful for the mask I wear in public spaces that hides the inevitable runny nose. I'm used to tears now. They won't embarass me. I don't mind if strangers see my grief but it does make me feel guilty on occasion. They didn't consent to my mess. 

A funny thing happens when your world falls apart though. Your lose your tolerance for bullshit. I'm not interested in putting on a smile if that isn't what I'm feeling. I'm too tired. I think a lot of people are feeling this way. In the midst of Covid, no one has the time or energy for the facade. For me, grief adds a thin, creamy layer of rage to this unwillingness. I have too many important reasons to be unhappy today and I refuse to let those things be hidden or ignored in order to make those around me more comfortable. If you can't handle me at the bottom of my mossy, haunted, deep dark forest well of grief you may as well keep walking. 

The more comfortable I get with grief, the less scary it is. I don't need to claw my way out of the well. I can venture out into the forest at will most days. The sun still shines. There are breezes and flowers and reminders all around me that it's important to keep going. 

The well is cozy and sometimes I want to just stay there, wrapped in my blanket of tears, so far removed from the people who inexplicably move through life blissfully unaware that a very important person is missing. I feel no shame in doing so; it won't be permanent. I feel comfort in knowing I can come back at any time when the world gets too big, but I will always climb back out. There are too many beautiful things happening outside to sit in the dark forever.