Remember the Grief Monster I spoke of?
He’s knocking on the door.
And I do not want to let him in.
He’s coming regardless, and I am preparing myself the best I can.
Yesterday, I received a card in the mail from the funeral home that handled Chad’s arrangements.
A “Thinking of You” card to express their sympathy as we approach the one-year mark.
I was sucker punched.
I didn’t need a reminder.
I have 8 more days.
8 more days to feel a little normal.
“Normal?”
Almost, but not quite.
8 more days until.
It’s been almost a year.
Almost, but not quite.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
Almost, but not quite.
They tell me this milestone is the hardest.
No.
I have to disagree.
The first day was the hardest.
And then every day after.
They say, “It gets easier with each passing day.”
Almost, but not quite.
It seems I live a double life most days.
One life where I’m on a ever-healing journey.
One life where I’m almost content with myself.
Almost, but not quite.
I’ve made it.
I’ve survived.
A whole year.
Almost.
But not quite.
