I have the panic-stricken, overwhelming feelings that I felt when I was a kid consuming me right now. In defense, I try to push them down… send them away on a little boat down the river. But, like a spring, they just won’t accept NO for an answer, and keep resurfacing. My amazing neighbor and friend just took my big kiddos, so that I can have a moment while they play and Teddy naps. I’ve never had someone do that for me, partly because no one has ever offered and truly meant it (besides my family), but even if they had I most likely would have sloughed it off and said, “no thanks, I’m fine.” I appreciate her so much for it. Because I’m falling apart today, and I need a moment. And some might find it to be masochistic, but I need this moment to look at pictures of my dad and hear voicemails he’s left me. I need to release this beast of depression over losing my dad and my heartsick, longing to be back home. I know it will never fully go away, but this is not something I can keep pushing down and pushing through. I need to sit in child’s pose and sob, so that I can release this weight that’s on my heart and soul. I long to be back in my hometown where things are quieter and so full of nature… the place where I grew up. More than that, I long for my dad to be alive. I want to hug him and ask for his advice and hear his stories and his laughter and make tropical drinks with him while we blast The Doors.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Today I can’t handle the ache. My Dad’s ashes had been tucked away in my nightstand for two years and honestly, I didn’t ever think much about them, except for the fact that my sis and I had to figure out a time to scatter them. They sat there hanging out with all of my essential oils and every so often it would register that they were there and that was that. I think about my dad all the time, but his ashes were well, his ashes. Until today, now that I’m back from scattering them. Now there’s a glaring hole in my nightstand and all of the essential oils are like, “WTF?!?! Where’d that awesome dude go?!” And it’s driving me crazy. Grief is so crazy. One day you feel so peaceful and such a healing. Then the next, you feel so sorrowful and anxious. I’m just so thankful to have this moment by myself in the middle of the day to let go of some of it. Thank you sweet Megan, you’ve given me such a gift.

-Tara xo