Yesterday was my Pappap’s birthday. Or, would have been. I did really well until right before bed and then I cried myself to sleep because sometimes you just need to let it all out. Just let it all out, it’s ok!
I woke up with a terrible headache.
I would say it’s gotten easier since he died in 1996, but that’s not entirely true. In a lot of ways, it’s gotten so much worse. But I can at least make it through entire days at a time without falling down the rabbit hole of ugly mourning.
Having a child makes it kind of harder to ignore that slow-burn, sinking sensation inside my chest. Because now when I watch Chooch attempt to hit targets at amusement park shooting galleries, it makes me think of how he will never know how much my Pappap loved those things. Or how my Pappap would always let me blow out the candles on his birthday cakes and would 100% let Chooch do the same. Or how he was just the best guy I have ever known. I never thought I would meet a guy even half as great as he was, until I met Henry. I hate that my Pappap never got to meet Henry.
I have been in a really weird place lately, family-wise. I just really miss him a lot, still. I miss my whole family.