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Today’s the third anniversary of my dad’s death. While I’m doing ok living in a world absent of his voice, I obviously miss him greatly.

The thing I noticed about my grief is that it takes on different forms. Maybe I feel a bit of malaise. Maybe my mind is more distracted. Maybe my blood pressure becomes elevated. (The last one has been an issue whenever someone close to me dies.)

What I must remember is that I am required to be kind to myself this week each year. The day I got the call about dad’s cardiac arrest was extremely traumatic. The week sitting by his bedside and sleeping in hospital and hospice rooms was exhausting. The memories of this week cause a number of feelings to bubble up and many that are just below the surface.

I’m off today. I can tell. My grief is not the outpouring of tears all of the time. But it’s present. I will keep going, and I’m grateful for God’s grace to cover my mistakes and distracted mind and God’s peace to accompany the traumatic memories.

Just like the last three years, I’ll get through this.