it’s been 3 years.
3 years to process and heal.
3 years to try and move on with life.
3 years of journaling every possible memory i have so that i never, ever forget it.
3 years of missing.
3 years of recollecting the voice that i will never hear again on this earth.
3 years of sporadic, heart-hurting emptiness.
it’s been three years, and i’m still processing and trying to live life without my grandaddy, the best man i have ever known.
but, it’s so hard sometimes.
and i miss him so much.
after all, he taught me the value of good literature, the benefits of laughter, the clouds in the sky, the love that Jesus has for me, and the power of physical touch. there are so many more…
here’s to moving past this day.