Some days I am better than others.

Dad is gone and everything I didn’t manage to do and tell him about some days hits hard.

Some days it puts me into his back patio one summer’s day talking about his grief for his Dad.

I had longer with him than he had with his Dad. Then again we had a good relationship as long as I lived a ways away from him and Mum.

That hurt for a long time whilst he was alive but I hadn’t realised grief would decide to regurgitate old pain seemingly at random.

There are a lot of friends who’ve lost parents and older relatives this year, unsurprisingly, and I’ve heard a lot of people describing grief as being a heavy feeling.

The end of April through May I felt poleaxed. A lot of my emotional pain decides to be physical, I don’t know how my sister managed to parent her kids through this. (Once again thank fuck we didn’t decide to have kids before my chronic fatigue decided to kick my ass). I could not get off the sofa, my concentration was absolutely shot. The Jellicle Cat was doing basically everything.

It wasn’t the same as The Swamp, I mean, outwardly it looked very similar but it didn’t feel the same at all.

Today is a grieving day but it’s not as heavy, not quite.

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