Call the Pebble Dare

I've had some things on my To Do list bearing down on me over the last few weeks. It's all stuff for my dad's memorial service. As I've procrastinated and procrastinated, I've had to admit to myself the nugget of denial that I am living with. The reality has hardened in this flood of grief I swim in. It keeps bumping up to my daily life like an annoying pebble in my shoe saying, "I'm still here. I'm…

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I Think They Call This Grief

"How are you?" When I was 13, my dad almost died right before my eyes. I always preface my reflections on this era with my age because it adds to the drama, but it really does matter. I turned 13 the day my dad was moved from CCU to a "regular" hospital room. And then the rest of my life happened. There was adolescence and there was teenager, young adult and now. There was my daddy and then…

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