Here we go.

It’s been about two and a half months since we said goodbye to dad.

The worst thing about grief is that you don’t get to hit pause.

You can’t freeze time and let it sink in. You can’t put everything on hold and take a break. The world keeps turning and you have to keep going. You have to try to be okay. Or at least put yourself in a good place to start. 

I’ve definitely avoided the thought of it altogether. A part of me wants to move on and be happy. A part of me is still painfully crippled.

Dad was my best friend, and I’m not just saying that. He really was. I don’t know how to feel about not having him here anymore. It’s still unbearable to think about even after the fact.

Either way, I really haven’t had much time to heal. They don’t tell you about all the financials, processes and obligations that come when both your parents die.

It was a rude awakening for Alyssa, John and me. Selling the house is currently our top priority and yes, there’s a shit ton to get done.

yes that rhymed!

We’ve been painting the bedroom walls for what seems like decades and it’s just one of the many items on our lengthy to-do list. 

The hardest part is just trying to find availability amongst the three of us. We live in two different states. Work different hours. Have different obligations. It’s nearly impossible. 

I know I live much closer than they do. It’s ten times easier for me to go there. I could go after work. I could go on the weekends when they’re not available. But I just haven’t been able to. I can’t bring myself to go and I’ve felt increasingly guilty about that.

I don’t have a valid excuse. I’m just exhausted.

Mentally and physically and all the way down to my core. 

Exhausted.

And when I do have the energy and I do have the spare time, all I want to do is take a break from everything. Sit home and do nothing while I have the chance. Or go out and do something that doesn’t break my damn heart.

The best thing I could do is just sit down and write about it. All of it. Every last detail since the very beginning.

I think It’d be excruciating to examine that part of my life with such depth. But doing it would be the absolute greatest thing for me. I know that. It always has been. It’s a huge part of why I fell in love with writing in the first place. Because of its unparalleled healing power that I’m forever grateful for. 

Anyway, I’m going to do something I’ll probably regret.

I’m going to make myself a promise via public declaration:

I will write about it.

One day. In fact, I already have. I’ve started. You can ignore the fact that 80 percent of my work is incomplete and will most likely retire that way.

But there it is ^^^^

My declaration to write.

Documented in writing.

So, what will I do in the meantime? I guess just hope none of you are mean enough to hang this over my head.

Be good to me.

Cheers,

Jenna Rose

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