Good grief, this is nuts!

As the dreaded day of Thanksgiving approaches, I feel a heaviness in my chest, the grief deepens and the lump in my throat is slowly rising, the pit in my stomach sinks lower and lower. My eyes well up and my breathe becomes labored, then the salty tears tumble hurriedly down my cheeks, each one carrying a little heartbreak and sorrow, happiness and memories.

I stood in the baking aisle at the grocery store a few days ago and started to tear up looking at damn pecans!!!  For crying out loud they're just stinking pecans. It hit me that I have your bowl that you used to make your pecan pie in and your green glass pecan pie plates and I am about to make that same pecan pie recipe for my family and start new traditions and new memories, and I feel that with every new memory I make, I may be pushing out old ones. I am not ready for this. I am not sure where I even fit in yet. I'd rather curl up in bed, wrap your jacket around me and cry. This is soooo not easy. Sorrow is easily hidden under makeup and a smile. Some wounds are not visible to the naked eye. My soul is still suffering the brunt of grief and loss.  

I hate this week. I am looking for thankful parts...

I miss you dearly