So yesterday, on my way home from work, i get a text message. It’s a reminder from my Google Calendar. My grandpa’s 87th birthday would have been next week.
I knew it was coming, but the reminder kind of slapped me across the face a little bit.
I’ve been thinking about him, and about my grandma, almost every single day. The desire to cry and shout and punch things is palpable, but i don’t. I carry on. After all, i’m not the one who died. I am living. I have it pretty good. Still, it seems like something should be done on their behalf.
On a far, far lighter (and yet somehow nastier) note, i recently won and received this.
