On The Seventh Day…

On the seventh day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Seven hugs I’m missing,
Six Salamanders,
Five family members,
Four election days,
Three months in,
Two different gyms,
And a surreal year with Covid 19!

Grief is funny. This past April marks 7 years without my Dad. And honestly, I thought that I was ok. I hadn’t cried in years, and I wasn’t trying extra hard to repress intrusive thoughts… I wasn’t dwelling on the loss or avoiding thinking about it. I was just living, and accepting my new norm. I thought about him when something relative popped up and moved on when the thought passed. I was fine… And then I watched Onward… And had myself a good old fashioned full fledged fetal position under a heavy blanket breakdown! I. Miss. My. Dad.

I’m not sure if I’ve commented on my Dad’s magical hugs here yet… I’m not going to in this post… But, they were ‘a thing’.


Until next time, feel the feels.

Two of the hardest losses I’ve had. My Great-Grandmother who passed away when I was in high school, and my Father who I lost a couple of years ago, caught in mid-conversation with my Mom

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