We're at almost 33 weeks since Kenton passed away. 33 weeks ago, about right this same time, we were rearranging the living room so that we could sleep up there together. Kenton was home! Oh the plans we had...
The past 33 weeks have been longer, harder, and more painful than I could have ever thought possible. The depth of our love mirrors the depth of our grief. That love is pretty deep. Consequently the grief is pretty deep also.
School has started. We're a few weeks in.
Kenton's Cup was last weekend. Incredible. Kenton's dream of being able to hold the tournament yearly to help other families is becoming a reality. What a blessing to be surrounded by so many people that made this happen! We can hardly wait to present the proceeds to our chosen benefactors.
The Eastern Idaho State Fair ended last night with the Demolition Derby. Always a family favorite.
Those 3 things, while being exciting, and happy, and wonderful, also served to crush our fragile state just a little more.
There are constant tears. If it's not me, it's McKayslin or Luke. Sometimes all three of us at the same time. Some nights we all lie in bed, arms wrapped tight around each other and just weep.
Some days it's all we can do to get out of bed, go to work/school/church/whatever and be in public only long enough to escape back home where we can fall apart again.
Other days we might appear to be doing fine. And we actually might be. That's the crazy thing about grief - you just don't know what you'll be feeling or how you'll be acting at any given point of any given day.
Please be patient with us. This soul crushing grief isn't going away anytime soon.
We're doing our best to be happy. To carry on. To love. To serve. To be okay.
We miss our Kenton.
Please don't ask how we are. Or if we're okay. You don't have to say anything at all. A hug, a card, a smile, eye contact. That says everything we need.
Just thought you should know...