Grief is a real bastard. It hits you at the worst possible times. Whether it’s in the grocery line ’cause you’re buying your dad’s favourite cookies, or at a restaurant and you know he’s suppose to be sitting across from you at the table, but isn’t. Or in class and you just break down in front of 18 strangers. Grief doesn’t care if you’re wearing make-up, or if your hands are too full to wipe your tears, or if you’re just really trying to learn about crisis intervention strategies. It’s a son of a bitch like that.
But, for as uncooperative and painful as grief is, it’s also eye-opening. It’s taught me to not waste time on shit that I don’t care about. It’s taught me to tell the people in my life just how enduring my love is for them. And it’s taught me how to love myself and my future.
That’s the greatest gift my Dad could ever give me. Even though this has been the hardest 6 months without him. And even though I cry almost every time I think about how much I miss him & how painful it is not to have him here, I’m grateful for the grief. I’m grateful for the opportunity to re-focus my life on the things and people that mean the most. And that definitely includes me.