One year since I last held his hand.
One year since I said good-bye for the last time.
I've been a a grieving basket case all week, though I've been keeping it mostly to myself, opting to start tearing up during still moments. It still astounds me at how different my grieving is with Dad compared to what a hot mess I continue to be about Bonus Mom's passing--both of whom I dearly miss.
Even though I probably should be available for my brothers, today I intend to just shut off my phone and see where the day takes me. I just want to listen to the quiet.
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