I’m not proud of this post and in fact it makes me sad to think that it happened. The day after my grandpa’s funeral I crashed. It probably happened for a lot of reasons but maybe it was just the first chance I had to not be responsible for anything. I don’t know if I couldn’t or I wouldn’t but I didn’t get out of bed. This was the first year that I have missed watching my children get their Easter chocolates and go on their egg hunt. I can’t believe I missed that. I will never get that moment back. I was only up for a couple of hours that day, I spent it falling in and out of sleep and avoiding everyone.
It is possible that I’m romanticizing Easter a little much though. Mostly it’s just greedy children fighting over who got more eggs than the other and throwing temper tantrums. Perhaps my guilt is misguided.
I just thought about Frank. Frank is scary as fuck.