Hello, me again! Hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I know it’s been a while and I subconsciously think it’s because I’ve been wanting and also dreading this post. So I need to rip the bandaid off and just put it out there. 

Let me first start off by saying….I FUCKING HATE APRIL. There are a few good things about the month, like birthdays and some of my friends other celebrations. But for me, I associate April with grief. Anger. Sadness. Longing. Heartbreak. Fear. And so many more feelings. 

Most recently even more so. We unexpectedly lost our puppy, Darla, tragically and traumatically for me and my daughter. Without going into detail… it may have been an accident, but I can now add guilt and blame to the list of words that I can associate with the month of April. 

Prior to this tragedy, I hated April because it’s the month I lost my father (for those of you that didn’t know). April 28, 2009. Ugh. Two weeks before my college graduation. Two weeks and a day before my 22nd birthday. Two months before my first wedding. 

It’s honestly hard to believe that so many years have passed. Almost 14 to be exact. Fourteen years of missing him. He never got to see me graduate, walk me down the aisle, meet my current husband, my kids, or watch me get the job of my dreams. He missed out on so many things for my brother and his kids. And we can’t forget all of my step-siblings accomplishments/life events either. Often people revert to the whole, “time heals all wounds,” but it doesn’t. It may get easier, but the hole that ceased to exist now lives on forever. 

It makes me so sad that my kids, nieces and nephews will never know what an amazing man he was. Never get to hear his infectious chuckle, something I truly fear I will one day forget. Hear all his dad jokes – “pull my finger” followed by a toot. He was such a social butterfly. We always joked that whenever he went to the grocery store for milk he’d be gone for an hour because he’d be talking to everyone. 

With each passing year the memories get a little bit more faint. God, I hate that. I also hate the fact that the photos I have, are the only ones I’ll ever have. I don’t have the opportunity to take more. I think back on choices I’ve made, and missed opportunities to spend time with the ones I loved versus the ones I thought I loved. Unfortunately I was too late in understanding this life lesson and have regretted it ever since losing him. 

Can we also talk about the chaos that grief is? Man, it can really knock you down and it can come out of nowhere! It can make you remember the good and bad at the drop of a hat. I’ll literally be in the car happy as a clam, then BAM! I’m bawling my eyes out because in crept a memory. 

The loss of my Dad still feels so fresh. I attribute that to the fact that he passed away in his home, from brain cancer (I can do another post on this if anyone is interested), in Upstate NY (aka North Country, aka Malone, NY – we are on the map thanks to the prison escape of 2015). I can count on just 2 hands how many times I’ve visited since. That is for a multitude of reasons, time, work, school, etc. But another big reason is that Malone is a reminder of what’s missing in my life. Most of my family still resides around that area, so I do have reason to return, but it literally breaks my heart when I do. Reopens the wound that has laid dormant. Instead of going to visit Papa Dean (what my kids would have likely called him) at his house, I have to drive them to a cemetery to visit his headstone. I sit there and cry, and my kids question why I’m talking to a giant stone with a dirt bike picture on it. Not easy explaining death and loss to young children. 

Ugh life just isn’t fair. He had such a zest for life. I’m sitting here at gymnastics, tears running down my face, hoping none of the other moms are silently judging me. (*I do want to say that I know my story may not be “as bad” as someone else’s and I know I am lucky to have had my father be such a big part of my life. In the grand scheme of things, you should bury your parents, not the other way around. I just shouldn’t have had to do it so soon. This loss – and the loss of my other family members – are still a part of my story. What makes me, me.*) 

There are so many things we can grieve in life, ranging from jobs; specific chapters of our lives; friendships; relationships; our pre-baby bodies; etc. Grieving doesn’t always have to be surrounded by death. And just because death may not be involved does not make your feelings any less than someone else’s. It’s your story. 

Shortly after losing Darla, I received a text message from a friend and it honestly resonated with me so much, even in the moment, and maybe it may help one of you. It said, “I know you’re right in the thick of grief from this horrible accident and it’s ok to be a mess….grief is both messy and unkind to those closest to the situation but I want to encourage you that you are loved…” (Thank you Heather). Even though there are never any WORDS, those were the PERFECT words. Grief is most definitely messy. And is absolutely unkind, shit, it’s a downright bitch! But it’s a part of life that most of us will experience in one form or another. Even though it may be hard, our lives will continue on without them as much as it hurts. It seems fitting to carry on in a way to honor your lost loved ones and live a life they would be proud of. 

To some extent grief is good, right? It means that though you have experienced loss, it means you have also experienced a love (or other good feeling) worthy of missing, worthy of grief. And suddenly I have a new found “appreciation” for grief. Some people may be lucky (unlucky) enough to go through life and never experience this. That’s both sad (when you think of the love they are missing out on) and honestly kind of musters up some feelings of jealousy because I would love to not carry this pain or be a part of the “I lost a parent club”. 

Here’s your reminder that whenever we are in this season, take a step back; count your blessings; hold your loved ones (hairless and furry) a little longer; tell the ones you love just how much you do; and take a TON of pictures. Because when they’re gone, that’s all you have left. Feel all the feels, be a hot mess, but most importantly, you are strong and YOU ARE LOVED!

❤️ Forever 42 –  Dean R. Livernois ❤️

❤️ Darla Mae, our resident crackhead, Potato ❤️