Tomorrow will be just as yesterday, and the day before.
A simple day.
Watch some kid shows before dawn, go to daycare, get back in my pj’s and work.
Many years ago, on a day like tomorrow, I went to a funeral.
My grand-mother’s funeral.
Now, I remember parts of it. Hot chicken broth served in plastic cups.
A woman telling I had beautiful children (I was a young teenager back then!).
The empty kitchen, in the old house that didn’t smell the same no more, and never will anymore.
Souvenirs will come and go all day, and before I know it, tomorrow will be yesterday.
Grief is a funny thing, really. True grief never truly go away. It lives alongside your every move and suddenly, an image, a sound, a date on a calendar. And voilà, Grief rings’ its clear silver bell on those beautiful moments, some getting foggier as time goes by.
I will remember the way she roll her thumbs during mass forever.
Tomorrow will be like yesterday.
Just a bit sad around the edges.
Just a bit.