It’s strange how grief works and what sparks my waterworks.
Alpena has been hit with a major ice storm, even the power in the city is out.
Turning Brook shared this update and I could just imagine Dad being out there holding your hand, making sure you were covered up and tucked into your recliner. He probably would have moved your chair so you could look out the window, as if you would have had any clue what a window was, or understood the concept of outside. He would be doing that, if you were still alive, that is.
It’s been a busy 4 months since you died, Mom. The first month was really rough and if I am honest, I don’t remember much of what happened after you died, my mind consumed by memories of the last week of your life and supporting Dad.
But life with kids is busy and with that, there has been a reluctance to allow sadness to seep in. I am afraid of going back to the unproductive, spacey-space I was in right after you died. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
And that’s funny to me, because you would approve and it’s not my normal MO; I am pretty good at allowing feelings their time and space and encourage others to do the same. Except, apparently, with the really big, sad, smothering feelings.
So, here I am, the Sunday before the kids go back to school after a week of Spring Break, debating between tackling the lengthy to-do list I made or allowing this sadness, sparked by the ice storm, some space, even if it immobilize me.
Miss you, Mom💔
The Beech House 