Today is father’s day. Today marks 18 days since my grandfather died and the 11th father’s day without my father. But who’s counting, right? Today, I struggle with the realization that life is not fair and that there is nothing we can do about it. Today, the pain and anger I feel is unreal and the desire to submerge myself in my own sadness is unshakeable.

Today, I can not find the silver lining because I do not want to. I don’t wish to acknowledge the fact that I now have two guardian angels because I’d much rather have them guarding me here on earth. I don’t want to “think of all the good times” or “smile because that’s what they would want”. Today, I choose to be mad and mean. I want to scream, cry, throw things, ignore the world and sulk. I can’t use the phrase “Happy Father’s Day”, because today, the wound is fresh. Today the wound has been reopened. Today, the thought of visiting two separate grave sites to tell the two most important men to me how much I love and miss them seems like a cruel joke at my expense. It sucks and for the first time in a long time, I’m not going to act like I’m okay.

Today, I’m going to succumb to the grief that has been rising inside of me. Today, I will not create a false happiness for the sake of a holiday.


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