The 20th of this month marks 2 years since losing my father. And then of course, October 3rd marks 3 years since losing Jack. As I think of these days, my chest already tightens and my eyes begun to water. The pain feels good because it brings me close to them, but it also hurts because I wish it wasn't so. 3 years is a long time, but at the same time, it's not a long time. The pain is still fresh, but I'm sure people expect me to have moved on or to be over it. But it's the opposite. The pain is still there and it hurts even more because Jack isn't the topic on my lips all the time. It hurts even more because people don't remember that his birthday is upon us. It hurts even more because I should have a 3 year old boy by my side.
Losing my father hurts me more because he's not here to be part of Samantha's life. It kills me that she can't get to know him. And it kills me that he can't see the child she has become. He would be obsessed with her. I don't have the closure I need to feel of Samantha having met my parents as grandparents. And I will never have that closure and it will hurt me for the rest of my life.
I loved the fall months. I loved this time of year. But now, as the weather cools, as the holidays approach us, I begin to feel more and more heart ache as the days pass.
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