Thought Monger

I could probably make quite a long list of the various ways in which I continue to struggle with Dad's death. However, I think that because Covid-19 is just so...well...out there, publicized, talked about and lord, politicized, it simply adds to and complicates my grief on a regular basis. It's as if there is a stigma placed on my grief because of the circumstance and cause of death.  This is something I try to reckon with, find peace with, not get emotional about, but, y'all? It's hard. It's real hard. And some of what I'm going to share is ugly. My preference is to stay light hearted when possible, but these thoughts have been weighing heavy on me. Real heavy.  Examples:  Certain Facebook "Friends"  I have Covid deniers in my "friend" group on Facebook. I'm going to classify a Covid denier as one who posts mocking memes about efforts to promote social distancing and mask wearing, those who rant and rave about anything resembling a sligh...

Who would have called first? I wondered last week, when we received about 4 inches of snow - a fair amount for us living in the Richmond, VA area. And I wondered again this morning, a week later, when I woke to more of the white stuff plopping down. Plopping is a much more apt word, than 'drifting' or 'sprinkling' or whatever word you might imagine is more poetic. Today's snow is just 'meh'. All details I would I have shared with the rapt audience of Dad, who, now that I think of it probably would have called first.  He had a habit of watching the weather patterns of all his kids' whereabouts. Whether they be our permanent residents or our favorite vacation destinations. And if something interesting was in the mix in said locale, Dale would be in the know and ready to report. I also find it interesting that though I live not 20 minutes from one sister, he would make it a point to check in on both of us: maybe our weather experience would be different? In...