Pity Party Hosted by Yours Truly
I’m hosting a pity party this year on your behalf. It is just now beginning, and it won’t end until, I don’t know, Jesus returns. I want to love this time of year. Basketball is in full swing, and oh, how you LOVED to watch your kids in sports. So loud you were so loud at the games. God bless those children.
This month is B’s bday month, Father’s Day, my anniversary, and yet, it makes my heart heavy. I wish things were different. In the end, I wish it didn’t even happen. Your children are healthy yet struggling. You are grandma times two! I can’t even fathom you and me being grandmothers! Seriously, how did that even happen? We aren’t old enough.
It’s the Month
The month. The month that changed me forever and a day. That phone call, the screams, your children’s faces. Your face. Your eyes. The smell of your freshly washed hair. It was still damp when I took it down. It had gotten so long. I don’t remember where the hair tie went. What did I do with it? I don’t know.
Honestly, that is now going to bug me. Maybe I used it to tie up the little bit of hair I snipped off to give to your mom, brother, and kids. I don’t know. I just had to call a friend and check in because my mental status is not good right now.
Honestly, I went to call your mom to ask her, and it hit me. She is gone too. Your kids will only have each other, their uncle, and me. In reality, I don’t even count. I’m going to have to stop now. I can’t finish.
Be at peace, my friend. Dance with the angels. Smile your smile. Talk your loudest. I miss you, and you were loved. Your life meant something, and I’m sorry you lost sight of that for a moment.