100 feet
One of those 100' grief waves is hitting me right now and I don't know who to talk to about it, or even what to say.
Two years ago today is when I started to get an inkling of how bad it was. I flew out the next day. Two days later was the diagnosis. One month later he had passed.
My brain is replaying everything today. What I could have done, should have done, should have said, should have been doing this whole time. I can barely breathe and... like he used to say about birthdays, it's just another day.
It is knocking my socks off and I can't breathe but what do I say? It sucks. It has always sucked. It will continue to suck. I guess I just didn't see this one coming. Life has been busy.
But I hope it's never too busy to knock me on my ass to remember him when I need to.