Well, here we are, nearing the end ... the end of this 9 months that is! Within my soul and heart the expectation and excitement is really mounting. But, then too, I feel a sort of sense of loss to realize it's all coming to an end. Of course, it isn't an end at all, it's just the beginning of a whole new life—one that I am anxious to see grow and develop. Still, it's hard to put my finger on it exactly, I rejoice at having had these past months of change & development going on inside me—it is a very personal and spiritual experience. I guess it's the "wonderment" that I shall miss ... it's been lovely growing with you ... yes, even in the bad days, it's been beautiful.
Tuesday, March 17, 2026
Well, here we are, many weeks now past the end ... the end of 5 months of crippling decline. Within my soul and heart the grief conflicts with anxiety and misgivings that wax and wane. Every day I discover another aspect of loss that I, my wife, my kids, or dad are experiencing. Of course, we're all wondering when it will end, and we're eager to begin whole new chapters in our lives—ones that we can feel confident and content in again. I don't know how to say it exactly: I lament at having had these past months of change & development going on around me, but I rejoice that you're not here still suffering—it is a very private and spiritually refining time. I guess it's the "entitlement" that I'm beginning to miss: entitlement to my own desires, entitlement to my kids' childhood surrounded by capable grandparents, entitlement to knowing my parents are well and what that means for my own future. It's not always been lovely grieving for you. Yes, even on the good days, I've found myself begrudging. God, forgive me.
My mom died on January 7, 2026. She was 70 years old. It was both her time and not her time.
