No Turn On Red

Many people think that grief is love with nowhere to go.

I think it’s a sneaky fucking asshole.

I’ve learned to live with the obvious reminders that he’s not here.

After three years, I’m prepared and ready for grief to pounce.

And I know it’s going to hurt.

A group of twenty-somethings laughing.

A proud dad talking about his son’s first job out of college.

Driving by a soccer field.

Watching his friends grow up.

Graduations. Weddings. Happy “Anything” Day.

Summer Camp.

Rivers. Waterfalls.

A colleague talking about how he’s “drowning in work.”

Old people.

Brothers.

A family of four.

What I haven’t learned, is how to live with the not-so-obvious, everyday moments that remind me he’s not here.

After three years, I’m not prepared for the grief ambush.

It hurts even more.

Tying my shoelaces.

Eating a Burrito.

Flossing.

Emptying the dishwasher.

Updating iphone software.

Logging on to Netflix and only seeing three accounts.

Checking the weather.

Seeing a No Turn On Red sign at a stop light.

He’ll never see a No Turn On Red sign at a stop light.

Grief is a sneaky fucking asshole.

June 2024