The last few days have been full of triggers.
First, there was the photo that popped up on Facebook. Even though I see the same picture several times a day when I look at my phone, it hurt to see it paired with a post that I had written in that moment two years ago.
Then there was the gray jacket at T.J. Maxx that looked just like one I bought him for Christmas several years ago. As I gently brushed the fabric with my finger tips, I could almost see him standing in the kitchen wearing it.
Last night, it was the silence that echoed through the house as the lights twinkled on the tree. Tears grew into full-fledge weeping. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to stop.
This morning at the grocery store, a friend from the cheese department gave me a hug and said Merry Christmas. Tears sprung up as I reached for the pecorino.
I would love to say that it’s easier this year, but it isn’t. I miss him terribly.
I contemplated not sharing my feelings on this blog, because I didn’t want to be a downer on Christmas Eve. But as I have said many times in the last month, if I’m going to be honest in my writing, I have to deal with my grief.
There are gifts to wrap and few things left to prepare for dinner, and then there’s the candle light service at church. And though moving through these activities can feel like a struggle, there is also joy in the memories they trigger. That’s what I’m holding onto today.