It’s the little things that drive grief. Your custom car tag, tacked to an indifferent Oak in memory of you. Promising me I’ll never feel the happy relief of a child returning home safely.

Seeing the car tag tacked to the oak was hard. The joy of remembering glancing out the window seeing you drive up. The relief and happiness I always felt. I will never feel it again. Just another shocking prick that causes an audible sob.

The next time I visit memory hill I won’t have that. My heart and mind will be prepared to deal with that loss.

Is that what grief is? Getting accustomed to losing every joy you ever had with your child? Seeing macaroni boxes in the pantry was painful. You loved it so. A seemingly small thing becomes a butcher’s knife straight to your soul. 

Tomorrow is Independence Day. My first without Ben in 27 years. He was too cautious to enjoy lighting fireworks, but he helped his cousin Jacob in spite of his fear. Last year he ordered a red shirt for himself and a flag print outfit for Beau. He was so proud of himself for thinking ahead, he wore his red shirt even though it was a size too small.