Grief is sneaky.

Yesterday, Dad said the Cipmunks Christmas song is what got to him. Mom hated that song, so for the first time he turned up real loud. Can you picture it? My daddy and his little dog, Lucy, bee-bopping down the road. Jamming to the Chipmunks.

Mike said, “Grief is a sneaky b!tch”. You got that right. She’s like a ninja. Busting all up into the most unexpected situations. It’s been 35 days. I still cry every day. So do my daughter and sister.

People ask how I’m doing…and I’m mostly okay. When I’m busy. But, y’all. Every morning when Scott leaves for work, before Abby gets up…when I’m still. Praying. Reading Scripture. Bam! A high kick to my already raw and broken heart. This week during staff meeting, one of our pastors was asking us to pray for a friend whose momma is dying. Hi-Ya! Right in the feels. It overwhelmed me.

Brandy shared about seeing momma’s perfect signature…she really did have beautiful handwriting. Right there in the middle of a restaurant she lost it.

I folded a blanket and laid it on her quilt rack. She was so pleased to have a specific place, a piece of furniture to hang quilts. She would love that it reminded me of her. It was my undoing.

Sneaky.  Sneaky.

I love you, and so does Jesus. He does it better. -KT

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