It finally dawned on me today why I might feel so peculiarly crappy. Like a dying flea on a sloth's butt. Prone to unprovoked tears. Content to stay shitty.
Elijah's birthday is in nine days.
Shit, that does make me cry.
He would have been four.
Damn.
Clearly, I show a marked improvement. For the last two years, I've worried about this day months in advance.
This time it snuck right up on me. Like a train running me over.
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xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Somehow that seems worse- the surprise of the grief.
I'll say it for you. Fuck!
Ahhh, now I get it. Yup, the next six weeks or so are expected to be hard. Can I do anything that would make you feel better? What do you need? And sorry, but I am fresh out of houses in Hawaii. WW
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