Grief

     Grief rolls in and out like the waves of the ocean. Grief is by far the most difficult thing that I Have been forced to embrace. People have passed away during my life, sure, but no one has passed away that I hold as dear to me as I hold my Dad. He is up at the tippity top of my tallest mountain. He still is even though he isn't physically here anymore. He always will be. 

    My Dad was 25 years old when I was born. I do not know too much about that time except that the relationship with my mother was tumultuous. The were both wild as hell in their own ways. They divorced when I was two or three. I don't recall much except the every other weekend routine with Dad. I guess in the 80's and 90's the norm was for the mother to have custody of the children and for the dads to get to see those kids every other weekend. So twice a month...for a day or two. Seems unfair to me but I am not family lawyer or judge. 

    It's been six months without him. Every day has been tough. Our whole lives changed that very instant in the middle of the night in July. I don't know what I would have done if I knew that the Sunday prior would be our last. I can still smell the cigarette smoke and see him on the porch watching us play outside. I can still see his face during our last card game and the Budweiser that turned into a Yoo-Hoo drink that neighbored the ash tray during our competitive games. 

    I thought by now it would become a little easier to manage but it hasn't. Maybe it will take some more time or maybe this is life now.

    Ironically, today would have been my Mom and Dad's 41st anniversary had they stayed married all those years ago. Time is fleeting.