The thing is, I want to talk about him. But when I do I start to cry.
There must be a six-month milestone when it comes to grief. I haven't Googled it or anything but I'm almost sure of it. When you lose someone, it's more shock and affairs at the beginning. But when the dust settles- and when they were the life of the party and lit up every room and now that is gone- their absence... it's just so there.
The past few weeks the tears just brim. I've got my own set of losses but the kids, they each are still processing the first close death in our family. Ivy misunderstood a while back and we really haven't corrected her. Poppal's in Kevin? She'll ask- a lot- and I'll affirm that it is true. Poppal's in Kevin (Heaven).
But she still thinks he could walk through that door any minute.
And while on Skype with my Aunt Diane in Louisiana, she was showing us her sweet grandson Aiden. He and Ivy were waving and being cute on the webcam. Then she called to Uncle Clark in the other room- Aiden calls him Poppal. And Ivy says brightly, "Oh, Poppal's not in Kevin? He's at Aunt Diane's house?!"
His cell phone and wallet are still in the desk drawer. Ivy rung him up, "Poppal you're in Kevin? Did you get your head fixed? Oh, you're at the beach?"
The thing is, I can imagine him standing right there. I can still hear him. I am in that in-between of it not being so raw but also still being able to remember everything. It is weird here.
Yet, comforting. We miss him.
- just write