With grief, some days are better than others. Some years are better than others. 14 years is a long time and, while I think of him often, I don’t feel “grief” often anymore. I went a couple of years hardly remembering the anniversary.
Enter kids into the picture. Olivia is two and Catalina is 7-months old. A by-product of now being at home with the girls is I lack adult interaction for the majority of my waking life, so I have a bit more time to ponder things than I once had. (Seriously, there is only so many times I can play our “Match The Letters” game before my mind just has to multi-task.) In those random times, most notably when I am challenged by Olivia’s “twoness” manifesting itself or Catalina’s ability to stay perfectly still until the moment that the diaper is off, I find myself running through the gambit of emotions tied to grief.
There’s anger. There are moments of denial when I realize that the girls will never know him on this side of heaven, God willing. But, mostly, emptiness.
I suppose one benefit of working more hours than you can count is you know that you still have to deliver your deliverables. In academics, you’re only hurting yourself if you don’t do something. In the real world, a lot of other people depend on your work to do their work—it is easier to keep focus.
In other news, my mom is having some medical work today. Your prayers are appreciated.
Editor’s Note: The medical work ended up resulting in a positive cancer diagnosis. After surgery and chemo, she is cancer-free as of 2016.
Thank you all.
James G. Kraft