2,923 days ago we got the news that you were gone. And a big, jagged hole took up residency inside of me. And the edges were sharp and the emptiness was painful, but as time went on the edges became dull and I got used to maneuvering around the hole.
But now, I’m noticing that each and every milestone I reach without you is sharpening the edges again, and I wonder if I’ll ever be used to them.
576 days ago I got engaged. You never met my fiancee.
400 days ago my babies were born. You never saw me pregnant, never met my children. I never got to see you as an uncle.
In 397 days I’ll get married. You won’t be there.
There are a lot more days left of my life, and you’ll be absent from every single one. After 2,923 days you would think I’d be used to that fact, but I don’t think I ever will be.