Next week marks a year since Jack’s death.
It’s hard to believe that we’ve been without him for so long already.
F*** this is hard.
I want to understand what I am thinking and feeling. I want to examine it and that will help me understand and that will help me deal with it and that will make it better because that’s what I do. But it’s not working.
A year without him laughing and playing. No more squabbles with his sisters. No more showing little brothers the ropes. His face smiling at me all the time.
It just kills me. I can’t stop thinking about him. That’s good and bad but it wears us down.
There are many people we have met through the Compassionate Friends who tell us that the second year is often worse than the first. God I hope not.