Two years. Two full years since Joe died. It still sounds like some fucking bullshit. He shows up in my dreams every so often. I see him, and I know he’s not supposed to be there, but everyone else acts like it’s completely normal. I spend the entire time stressed out because even if he is supposed to be there at that moment, I know it won’t be long before he’s gone again. I wake… Keep reading…Two Years.

Sometimes I have things to get done that I am actively thinking about while I’m doing something else, fully intending to do those things next, but then something else interferes and suddenly it’s six days later and I still haven’t done those things I was thinking about. I was feeling very off. And I was chalking it up to the fact that it’s August and summer is never going to fucking end. But something was… Keep reading…Only passing through…

It has been one full year since Joe died. November 4, 2022. It feels both like an eternity since that day and only a matter of a few weeks. It has been three months since we buried him next to our [paternal] grandparents. People like to write essays about grief and all of the revelations and lessons they’ve learned and so much of it really reads like everything else on the internet: carefully curated and… Keep reading…One Year.