It’s been so strange moving forward again. But by bit as we find new ways to do things and as our lives naturally start to move with the passage of time… after what felt like an eternity in strictest quarantine.
I lost my dad a little over a year ago. The first four months were agonizing. My own ability to function beyond one thing at a time or for longer than 5 or 6 hours was gone. Along with what felt like all semblance of rational thought processes and emotional stability.
I’ve come a long way since then. I made friends. I got a cat. I wrote, journaled, drove, sang, and talked my way to a place in my grief I’m proud of. Even when support groups went virtual and I was forced to rethink the anniversary plans… I was okay.
We bought our first house. A big step, one I wish I could’ve shared with him. I think he’d be proud. We packed up the apartment. Moved… then I started unpacking.
From his leatherman multi tool to his hats. From the plans to build shelves to the sound of my coffee mug clinking when it hits the new counters. The smell of the firewood I got lingering in the car.
Things had stopped changing… the stagnant space from March to September. I am wondering if I was doing as well as I thought. Or if I’d just stopped finding new things to remind me of who I’m missing.
It’s been hard moving forward. I’m reminded again that every step I take from here on out, is one more without him. And that sucks.
xoxo -Cassie
Coffee & Conundrums 