In July my family is going to my aunt’s beach house for a week or so. We are honoring my grandfather on his birthday, and it will also be the first time we have all gathered since Timmy’s death.
This morning I woke up thinking about the beach trip and had images go flying through my head. I pictured Lissy and I sunning ourselves on the porch. I pictured myself holding my nephew, Liam, only a month old. I saw papa telling stories and nana begging to go play scrabble or ping pong. I pictured Matt, Tim, and Jeremy playing in the waves and fishing from the pier. It hit me like a brick wall. Not that I had “forgotten” that Tim is gone, but it doesn’t feel real still. It felt like someone sucker punched me bringing me to my knees.
I spent the morning blow drying my hair with tear-filled eyes. Death is weird, the loss of someone comes in waves. An expectation that someone will and should be on the beach trip, and then realizing they won’t be. I miss Tim so very much. I miss his laugh, the faces he made, his kind heart, everything about him.
Time continues to heal, but it just sucks.