Grief Is The Price We Pay For Love

Grief is one of the most confusing things I’ve experienced; and having not experienced this since I was a teenager it feels even more profound as an adult. How can I go about my normal day and smile and laugh with my colleagues, but at the same time feel heartbroken and sick at the thought of this new reality. It doesn’t make sense. But it’s all true, it’s all how I feel. After messaging one of my best friends about what’s going through my mind, it prompted me to write on here. It’s been a few months since I last did as always. But it’s how I get these feelings out in a therapeutic way for me; by writing and rambling and spilling out all my thoughts into this small space of mine.

My Uncle Tony was an incredible man. He was such a huge part of my childhood and despite not seeing him as regularly as an adult due to the family moving away; his impact on me will never cease. He found such pleasure in winding me up and finding new ways to torment me, whilst simultaneously showing me so much love in his own strange way.

As I lay in my bed, I look through photos of him pulling silly faces, looking grumpy or cuddling his grandchildren and I can hear his voice in my head. It is a bittersweet feeling; comforting but painful. The tears are hard to stop tonight. It’s been 6 days and I miss him. I miss his annoying habits, his huge bear hugs and his loving texts I will treasure forever.

Tonight, and forever, I will think about how grateful I am to have known and loved him for twenty seven years; I just wish it could have been longer.

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