This week has been hard. It’s hard because of our nutty schedule. Bria has soccer practice or a game 6 out of 7 days this week. Jack’s early morning speech appointments are hard when it’s already a nightmare to get everyone up on a normal school day. Since SOL testing is done, Arleigh especially is loaded down with end of school projects. Both big girls have finals all next week. Let’s not forget I added swim. Now, I’m not complaining. I do like my full days. I realize a time will come when no one will need me to drive them around, cook 6 pounds of taco meat for Mexico day or generally want to be seen with me in public. It was also hard because grief has a funny way of sneaking up on you.

This week Tye would’ve turned 40. I can’t imagine the party. Of course, as my cousin pointed out Tye (autocorrect tried to change Tye to turd when I didn’t use capitalization. 😂😂😂 I can’t tell you how much I love that!) and Prince shared a birthday so I’m sure he’s still having a great time. The actual day didn’t bother me so much, maybe because I know he’s in a better place free to be happy. The day before… The reminder that popped up on my computer that said remember to call Tye for his birthday…that stopped me in my tracks. So many times this week I wanted to call him. To tell him Bria made the travel team or she met a professional player, to cry about having to go to Jack’s IEP or how well it went, to talk about how to deal with the boy in Arleigh’s life if only so he could make me laugh, Hanan’s concert, the special needs kiddos I got to help…at least 1,000 times a day I have a reason to call or text him. I didn’t need the reminder.

It’s been hard because memories pop up on my phone.

I’ve been in a mood. It’s not just me. We all have. This morning I’m thinking it’s the festering wound of something missing…somethings missing. 

Tye’s birthday has never been my favorite day because it was my reminder of the anniversary of Dad’s death. Sigh… So now I also imagine Dad at Bria’s games. He would lose his mind watching her try a maradona. He’d scare the life out of Josh and take Hanan for a run. He’d be all over the swing and trampoline with Jack. 

That festering wound that is grief is open again because of anniversaries. It’s not that it’s ever not there, in the busy moments of my life it’s just easier to ignore. Talking about it seems to provide a release valve. Thanks for indulging me. Time to put my big girl panties on. We have a life to live.