I learned today that bereaved means "to be deprived of." Yeah, that tracks.
I'm deprived of you, at least in the here and now, physically.
Today Primary's did a memorial program, I think I mentioned it yesterday. Anyway, Utah weather put on a show and it snowed! Yeah, May 5th and the white stuff was coming down.
Makes it a little hard to release the butterflies after the program.
So they sent them home with us and we did it here. I think I may have liked that better anyway. This way Linnaea got to participate as well. She was enthralled, loving that hers really wanted to stay perched on her hand. We gently placed them on the raspberry bushes and came in for dinner.
A few hours later, I checked and two were still there, maybe kinda like you?
You stuck around a lot longer than you were "supposed to" too, and I'm so grateful.
I wrote a note to you. Were you reading it over my shoulder?
I'm trying, Aaron, really. Grief is a change I didn't want.
It's said that anxiety is found in the gap between reality and expectations. I think maybe grief is similar. I haven't found that I'm anxious, but my grief is the gap between reality without you, and the expectation that you were going to be here for, I don't know... forever?
I love butterflies. But they don't become beautiful by crawling into a cocoon and taking a nice nap. The caterpillar weaves the cocoon around himself and then completely deconstructs, into a pile of goo. It's a mess, kinda like grief.
It's only after a lot of work that he emerges as something glorious and beautiful.
I hope someday I find this, too.
Love you, little man.
Miss you so much.
“Grief is the price we pay for love.”
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