Grief

Grief is hard. It hits at random times. It's not linear. It never goes away, although it kind of blurs at the edges, eventually. It causes some to stress eat, some to not be able to eat. It causes some to sleep to escape it, and causes some to not be able to sleep because of it. 

Ralph and I have lost a lot of people. Between us, four parents, seven grandparents, lots of uncles and aunts. Friends, and children of friends. Many furry loves. 

But Joseph's death has hit us the hardest of all. Other deaths have been unexpected, but somewhat predictable due to the person's age or health issues. 

Joseph's death was a horrible accident. None of us could have predicted it, and I don't think any of us are beating themselves up for not predicting it. You can't predict an accident. 

I think it's hit us so hard because he was so young, just 32. He should have had the opportunity to grow to be an old man, to see Joey grow up, to be a grandfather. To always have "things to do" like my late dad did. And he won't have that opportunity.

Our hearts are also broken because Joey is only 6, and 6 year old don't have a lot of memories to sustain them. He will remember Joseph more by stories and pictures than by memories. His memories will fade, and he'll only have snapshots in his mind to remember his dad. 

Our hearts are broken for Michael and Jacob and Britt. Joe was 14 when Jake was born, and he was so thrilled to be a big brother. Britt and Joseph were Jake's godparents, a responsibility they embraced. 

Grief can't be rushed. It has to be dealt with minute by minute, day by day, year by year. Eventually you go an entire hour without thinking of the person, and then an entire day. But then a memory hits, something reminds you of the person, and it's fresh again. 

Joseph was cremated, and his ashes buried with my mom's, next to my dad. The cemetery they are in is about two miles from us, and I pass it a few times a week. My grandparents are also there. Every time I pass, I salute my Dad and Pop, both proud Navy veterans. I blow a kiss to Mom and MomMom. Now I've added a gesture for Joseph. I put my hand to my heart. And I never pass that cemetery that I don't choke up. I had stopped crying when I pass it, but with Joseph's death I'm back to crying every time. 

Emphasizing with the grief of others is also heartbreaking. Every time I think of Joseph I think of the pain Mike and Donna are going thru, the pain that should never have been. Parents should not have to bury their children. 

And if this doesn't make a lot of sense, so be it. It was more stream of conscious than anything. And I'm writing it thru tears. We'll all be ok, eventually. Just not yet.