I’m stuck in my grief.
My sweet Dad went home to heaven 6 weeks, 1 day, and 16 hours ago.
And yet the world keeps spinning, groceries get purchased, laundry gets done, and my job continues to expect me to arrive with a smile plastered onto my face.
It’s like I’m walking around in a fog, slightly cognizant of those around me and irritated that they’re unaware of my pain. My heart hurts. I don’t feel happy. Instead, I feel like no one else gets it. Like they expect me to be over it.
I’m not over it. I will never be over it.
My Dad died.
I will never hug him again. I will never spend Christmas with him again. I will never be the same. I am changed forever.
My sweet Dad went home to heaven 6 weeks, 1 day, and 17 hours ago.