My mind whirls endlessly,
never ending questions without answers,
fighting reality, grasping for hope.
And then without warning, a London fog rolls in
and my mind stops on it’s on accord,
unable to process the most simple things.
Tears push behind my eyes, but refuse to fall.
The next minute tears well up ceaselessly,
a never ending stream.
Life continues to go on around me,
even when I feel like it stopped.
The last few weeks would best be described with a photo a day.
I do have a photo for every day,
but I won’t be sharing them all for various reasons.
On the darkest of days, friends and family rally around to lift you.
The days following the funeral were filled with
shiny stars, beautiful sunrises, sunsets, and much more.
We stood in the lawn one afternoon and watched God
paint a rainbow right before our eyes.
There were days spent in Tris’ shop,
looking through his tools, laughing at his jokes
remembering him in his favorite spot.
Glowing evening sunshine warmed us,
dried our tears, and drew us closer to heaven.
There were quiet evenings around the fire,
reflecting, talking about Tris and all of our good memories.
Tris was a junk food junkie and his work truck was full of snacks.
Sarita and I went to his favorite store and loaded up on his favorite stuff.
More time spent in his shop,
checking out his next projects and remembering better days.
And one last early morning visit,
saying good-bye before I went home.
Blogging may be sporadic until I get my thoughts together again.
I don’t want to bog you down with my mountain of grief,
but neither do I want to write like it never happened.
It has very much effected our lives and changed us forever.
Keep praying for our family,
it looks like Mt Everest was dropped in front of us
and is waiting to be climbed.