I talked to a tree today.
Seemed like something you would find funny. I usually hide behind other’s words on this day - but 5 years on, and I still haven’t found the right ones that express what I want to say. The tree was no help.
I think grief is a selfish emotion, at the bottom of it. You not only mourn the person, but the them-shaped hole in your own life, your own future. It is suddenly knocked off track, and you are left riding parallel to how you thought your life would go. I mourn that other life, the one where we hosted movie nights, embarrassed you at graduation, bought you your first underage beer. The one with you in it.
Selfish, right?
But the only choice is to ride this out, this other, not-quite-right life we’re left with. And I guess to hope. Hope that you’re happy, hope that you know how much we love you, and how much we fucking miss you.
Hope you hear us sometimes, talking to trees.
Hope it makes you laugh.











