My father died a year ago. I still haven’t walked into the woods to cry yet. I did visit his grave on Memorial Day. Smoked a cigar, looked around the cemetery. A lot of flags. Lots of vets. I wonder what it’ll look like when I’m buried there.

I’m ready for a break. Ain’t gonna get one.

1 comment

  1. I know how you feel. Yesterday, I attended a memorial service for a friend who died this winter. Due to school breaks, and a lot of the family being in different parts of the country, it was postponed until now.

    It was hard; for the last couple of weeks, it’s been on my mind, especially in the early hours of the morning. I’ve found myself getting out of bed around 4-ish.

    She was my best friend. Although we knew each other in high school, we didn’t really get to know each other until about 6 months after graduation, when we joined the same Catholic Young Adults social club. We quickly re-connected, and, over the years, although we often lived in different cities, we remained close.

    She suffered from myasthenia gravis. It’s a progressive neurological disease that causes you to lose your ability to control your muscles – over time, you get weaker and weaker. She died February 11, 2024. At that time, I was exhausted from running back and forth, first to the hospital, then to rehab, for my husband’s quad injury and surgery.

    So, I wasn’t there when she died. As my husband was preoccupied with his recovery, he wasn’t around to see me grieve. At the memorial, I let it all out, finally.

    And, I slept well last night.

    Hang in there. Try to find someone to listen to you. Don’t forget those who have also suffered their own losses, and make a point of listening to them (Especially those who have aged out of having friends in their age group – last survivors probably suffer the most).

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