July 12.

So here we are.  July 12.  One month later.

I know that time will make it better, but right now, it isn’t.  It actually gets a little bit worse for me each day.  I think living in Raleigh has given me a delayed reaction for it to really sink it.  I’m not there every day to notice he’s not there.  When I call and he doesn’t answer the phone, it’s because he’s not home or he’s in the shower.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m not in denial.  I was there in his final hours and prayed to the Blessed Mother while holding his hand along with my family as his heart and breathing slowed down to a stop.  I know he’s not with us physically anymore.  There’s just been a disconnect that’s prevented it from really feeling real.

Then on Monday, the absence started to sink in.  On Tuesday, after I had posted pictures from our family day on Facebook, I realized that there would be no more new pictures with Grandpa.  I only have what I already have.  I won’t get to make new memories with him in them.  It’s unsettling.  That’s when it hit me that although life goes on and we’ll make new memories and the family will always grow, it will never be complete.  Because how can it be complete without our Louie there to give us advice or play “Happy Birthday” on the piano or pick out the best wines or slip us a $5 (or a $20, lol)?  And that’s how I ended up crying myself to sleep last night.

This is really difficult.  Thanks for listening.

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