Today... is a bad day. A bad week... actually.
I lost my Pop on August 10, 1992 -- just 19 days before my DD was born. I lost Nan on August 3, 1994... 26 days before my DD's 2nd birthday.
I spend the first part of every August in quite a state -- lost in memories -- teary-eyed and sad.
Losing your Mother... well, that's an almost indescribable loss... she meant everything to me. She taught me to embroider... she taught me to crochet... she taught me to read and gave me a love for History that has served me all of my life. She was 84 when she died -- I was 33. I didn't have her -- have them -- nearly long enough.
And Pop -- well, he was my guardian angel, wasn't he? He was just days from his 91st birthday when he died -- and I never really realized he'd become an old man.
Yes, this is such a tough week for me.
They say that grief lessens as time passes, but that is a lie.
If anything, it grows. There are so many things I need to talk to them about -- so many questions to ask -- so many things.
I still mourn their loss.
I'll be glad... when the morning of the 11th dawns.
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