Jason's Untimely Thoughts

I hear there are supposed to be stages of grief… Sadness, Denial, Anger, Whatnot.

Bunk, I say.  Stages would imply that it transitions from one to another, maybe not easily, but clearly over time.  In practice, it seems each of those alleged stages is front and center constantly.  Not a stage, but a sticker that is worn with all the others.

I still think Sarah should walk in any time.  I know she’s not going to, but she should.  After the football games, she should come walking across the bridge, tired from the game and carrying all her junk, so I can talk to her about what the day was like and we can each be the (relatively) sober people hanging around the tailgate for each other.

She should be walking Adelaide to school each morning, taking part in the mom happy hour on the playground each afternoon, and hustling to dance class on Tuesday nights.  She should be the one planning Adelaide’s 6th birthday party and working to get JT toilet trained.

She should have been at Boone Hospital on Tuesday, holding her new neice.  She should be taking photos of the new five-member family.  And buying her, or more likely making her, a cute onesy or something.  She should be the one doing that so much that I can’t even bring myself to try to go buy Lydia something instead.

So that’s all sadness, denial, and anger right there.  In most things, I am able to rationalize my way to what’s “right”.  Even if in disagreement, we’d always been typically able to at least understand why decisions were made, or what that person might have been thinking at the time.

Without delving into a huge religious discussion, there’s been nothing clearer to me ever than the fact that absolutely nothing about this is “right”.  Two months out, it’s still completely unfair and absolutely not right.  Not just to the kids or to me, but to everyone else that reads my random spewings.