It’s been a rough month. I know. You probably don’t want to hear one more story about Dakota. I’m sure you don’t. His passing has left such a hole in my life, though.
I miss curling up with him on weekends. I miss getting his kisses when I came home from wherever I went. I miss seeing him playing in the snow.
I worry that I didn’t give him a good enough life, that I didn’t treat him as well as I could have. Maybe I yelled too much. Maybe I punished him too harshly. Maybe I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt as much as I could have.
And all of my doctoral applications were due (and I got them in). My gosh is that a lot of stress. I didn’t get much time to grieve because I had to get those done.
And as I said, my grandfather was terminally ill. He passed on Thursday. I think that everything I’ve been holding in, from Dakota’s passing to the stress of the applications, my thesis, and work, to my grandfather’s passing have all come out this weekend. I’ve had these bouts of intense crying that haven’t been duplicated in years. I haven’t cried like this in such a long time.
I am going to miss my grandfather. I’m going to miss his emails and his voice. I’m going to miss his presence in my life.
I miss my little guy so much that it physically hurts sometimes. I ache from the loss.
My grandma and I were talking yesterday. She said, “In our family, we laugh just as hard as we cry and we’re able to do both extremely well.” I replied to her that I’d rather be able to laugh and cry because it means I’m alive.
I just wish the crying didn’t accompany hurt. The hurt is overwhelming sometimes.