Every day I wake up and he's not here. Letting go feels like sawing off a limb in slow motion. Every single day. Saw . . . saw . . . saw. He's not here. He's not coming back. He was here and we have great memories, but we're not making new ones with him. We're making new memories without him. That hurts like hell.
Every day I go about life the best I can, still weighed down by grief, trying to move on. Saw . . . saw . . . saw. I have the sense that people around me expect more of me.
Every day when you get up and enjoy your morning coffee, I'm here slowly sawing off a limb. You head out to face the day with the buzz of a little caffeine. I head out to face the day with the pain of the sawing still throbbing.
I cannot think what the "more" would be Annie. May HE give you a peace in your heart to assuage the buzz in your ears. ❤️ReplyDelete
i want to write, i am just not sure I am sure what to say. i really value that mark still makes his way into conversation around our home and special notice is taken when his name is mentioned. thank you for sharing with us what your day (s) are like. you are never far from my thoughts.ReplyDelete