Summer

Grief

I harvested sage today and bound her into wands to use this Fall and Winter. There are no fewer than three flies inside the house taunting me and Fox is loudly playing with his father’s G.I. Joe toys from the 80’s. I’m leaving in a few hours to have a patio dinner with a longtime friend and right before I sat down to write this I poured a cup of hot coffee.

I am very tired. Emotionally tired, yes. But also just plain tired. I didn’t sleep much last night. I kept waking thinking I was hearing things and feeling scared. It felt like I was sleeping in a room full of Spirits. I’m sure I never reached that restorative deep sleep.

I’ve had The Gilmore Girl’s playing on the TV all week. I find the show comforting. A Christmas episode played earlier and when I heard Bing Crosby crooning I almost lost it. I held it together because Fox was there on the other end of the couch watching too, and I haven’t been able to tell him yet that his grandpa died.

Growing up, my family always listened to Bing Crosby on Christmas morning while we opened presents. We played Nat King Cole too, whose voice I’m sure will also make tears spontaneously pour from my eyes next time I hear him. Listening to beautiful music together as a family was nearly as great as opening the gifts. We are a musical bunch.

Last night I was walking the dog and listening to some men on a conspiracy podcast talk about how we live in a simulation. A large bird circled way up in the sky and I had the thought that my dad would be doing that now. Flying. Soaring. I took a few more steps and a huge crow feather was at my feet. I picked it up and felt it was somehow from him.

The friend I’m meeting in a bit, she lost her father earlier this year and I feel like I owe her an apology of sorts. I didn’t send flowers or a card, and I’d known her father for half my life. I just didn’t realize how much hurt she was feeling, and now I do. Now I know that when someone disappears who is half of who you are, it doesn’t matter how close you were or how much time you spent together…something is gone from you. A part of you has lifted off into the great unknown and it feels fucking shitty.

The coffee is helping a bit, but nothing will do except a proper sleep. You know what does help? Watching this scene from Neighbors 2. Seth Rogan, he helps. Laughing for a few minutes. Short of that I think only time is going to lessen this sadness.

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