Grief Attacks

The attacks are the worse.

I don’t grieve all the time; I’ll have really good spells. Days of laughter, and fun and everything feels right. My new routine rolls smoothly, but when something happens too good or bad.

Then I want to call you. I remember. The ache crawls out of my ribcage, swells into a knot at the back of my throat. It strangles me. I can’t breathe for a moment as I have to recenter myself to the knowledge that I can’t call you.

You don’t call me at eleven pm anymore to watch movies because you can’t sleep, and you know I’ll indulge you.

I can’t call you when the news gets overwhelming or when my kids are driving me crazy.

Part of me wants to really write a book – but how can I do that now that you’re gone. The fact that your gone is mindboggling. You shouldn’t be gone.

I just miss you and love you.

Love your favorite child.

Emily.