Someone had come to visit and brought me a couple pictures of my brother I hadn't seen before, the year he was taken.
I managed to mostly keep it together until I got home, but once arriving there, I pulled out the box of pictures, sat on the floor, and just let it out. I thought that it might help to have a good cry. How else was I supposed to feel any better? I knew I shouldn't bottle it in. It just amazes me, that even after 3 years of him being gone (rip) how it still hurts as if it were yesterday?!
Once Scott got home, he saw how upset I was and he whisked me away for a much needed scenic drive.
We took Jake back into the woods and let him play for a while by the water and we also heard turkeys.
Getting out and just watching Jake enjoy himself and play made me happier.
I'm realizing that even adults need redirecting. I needed to get out.
So as I'm sitting here a couple days later....
After all, grieving is a process, right?