weepy.  exhausted.  depleted.

 

on multiple calls over the last several days, friends have checked in to see how i was doing and those are the three words that best described it.  but then again, how do you describe something in a way that captures everything all at once?  is it even possible?

 

i watched more tv than what should ever be allowed last tuesday and wednesday.  while what i was watching would have tugged at my heartstrings no matter what, i don’t think it would ordinarily produce tears.  i am not talking about a tear or two – i am talking about uncontrollable sobbing.  sometimes, i found myself still weeping even when the credits started rolling.  20 straight minutes of crying is practically unheard of for me, yet there i was.  it was not until a friend text messaged me to schedule a call that i became aware of what time of year it was.

 

i opened my calendar and it was april 29th.  there was only one day left in april before entering the month of may – the month i now dread because i am reminded over and over again that you are not here.  you passed on the 7th, mother’s day is always closely thereafter, papa’s birthday is on the 17th and your funeral was on the 25th.   on some level, it feels like i hold my breath for the entire month without ever truly feeling settled.

 

the thing about grief that is a misconception is that time heals all.  i am not a wreck 24/7, 365 but i still have days where i am a wreck.  learning to sit with that instead of trying to bury it has truly been a challenge unlike any other.

 

in the last year, i have grown, loved and lost.  i often wonder what wisdom you would have offered me.  that has only been amplified amidst the pandemic we are in.  as much as i miss you, i am almost grateful you are not having to deal with this bullshit.  it is wild.

 

anyway, i make a conscious effort to honor you both in big and small ways.  sometimes, it is something simple like baking lemon bars for the first time (i know how much you loved a good lemon dessert), sending jaclyn a sympathy card from your personal collection when she lost her grandmother or helping a well deserving student-athlete pay for her letterman jacket.  other times, it is something bigger like standing next to crystal as her maid of honor (you would have loved sam, by the way), facilitating coming out conversations between at least a dozen of my students and their families or driving six hours to the bay to comfort a friend who never asks for anything but vocalized needing support.

 

while this last year without you was easier than year two, i can say with conviction that i do not miss you any less.  the older i get and the more i work on myself, the more of you i see in me.  it is both healing and heartbreaking but the heartbreak is worth it.

 

you taught me so much about unconditional love, patience, independence, compassion and how to foster meaningful relationships – all of the things they don’t teach you in school (even though they should).  now that i am 30, i think of what this decade will hold for me.  two of the most monumental shifts will be having my own practice and becoming a mother.  while there is still some time before either of those boxes are checked off, if my 30s go by as quickly as my 20s did, i know each is just around the corner.  with what you instilled in me, i know both are undertakings i can accomplish.  i just wish you were here to experience all of it with me.

 

i love and miss you with every ounce of my being.

 

love always,

pumpkin