Last night, I cried my eyes out for my dad. I cried more than I did at the funeral and wake. You remember when you were a little kid and you lost your favorite something and you realize - POOF! It's gone. You remember the tantrum that followed? You remember how no matter what someone said, it didn't matter? Can you remember how it just took your breath away? That is how I felt. I wanted to scream at God. I was (am) so angry that He took MY dad. I wasn't done with him. I needed my dad last night. I need him every day to be frank. But last night...last night was different. I needed his advice differently than before. I needed his comfort. I needed his humor. Last night, I was just a little girl who needed her dad. I guess no matter what age I get to or how much times has passed since I lost my dad, when I realize he's gone I go back to when I saw him lifeless on the hospice bed. That is grief. Grief is a weird branch of love. It's our continued act of love for someone who is no longer here (Please don't say "he's spiritual here", my skin crawls when I hear that). It is honoring them over and over again by repeating stories about them or looping them into the conversation someway and somehow. It is continuing their memories by making them proud of the person you are growing into.

After my child like tantrum was over, I laid in bed so mad at myself because I thought I was over it. It has been over a year since my dad passed, I should have my grief under control. I shouldn't still be affected by it. I thought I made peace with it. I'm cool, God. It's fine, God. I trust your plan, God. But I'm not fine. I'll never be okay that Gods plan cut my dad's life short. I will always cry when I hear my dad's name. Sometimes happy tears that turn into sad tears. Sometimes sad tears that turn into angry tears. And sometimes tears for no reason other than I just miss my dad. That's grief. It's hidden. It comes out when you least expect it; when you're laughing with friends, when you're out on a date, or when you're at work. You might think that you've got it all covered but then it reminds you that it's a rollercoaster.

Those on the outside think it's great and we've mourned, it's over. Past tense, right? Wrong. We mourn. It's a continuum. There will always be a sensitive spot in our brain and our hearts that sparks the grief to come out. As time goes on, when the grief comes out you learn to acknowledge it and come back to the moment you are present in. It takes time. There isn't a set moment where it becomes "easy". It never will be "easy". So as life goes on things happen and I want my dad there or need his advice (like last night) and he's not there, I mourn all over again. I know he's not here anymore but that moment where I'm there NEEDING my dad's arms around me, it takes my breath away, as it did when my name was called back into the hospice room. It always will. No matter how many years or months go by. That's grief. It's not a chapter. It's the new book. The new reality. It isn't something you deal with and move on. Think of it like a cloud with a silver lining: sometimes the cloud over you takes over your mind or it's patches. And the silver lining is the hopeful outcomes: you love a little more, hug a little tighter, and smell the flowers a little more.

As I think about how I'm grieving, I remember that my mom is grieving, my brothers are grieving, my dad's friends are grieving...we're all...grieving. Have you ever thought about how we're all grieving or mourning something or someone? Because, well, we all are. We all have lost someone. We all battle something unseen or unknown. The loss of a job, the loss of a friendship, the loss of a relationship, the loss of a dream, the loss of something we couldn't imagine not having anymore...we all have lost something or someone. Every single one of us has something on their mind constantly that is challenging their thoughts or causing an emotional reaction. Sometimes we don't even make the connection that our irrational reaction to a situation was a result of grieving. My advice: Just be kind. You have no idea what the person next to you has gone through, is going through, or what they will go through. Being kind has zero negative consequences. What can happen if you're kind to a rude person? The possibilities are full of love and positive connections. If we treated everyone that we crossed paths with, with kindness, it would 100% change the world for the better.

When you meet the angry person at the shopping line, be kind. When you meet the slow person at the red light, be kind. When you see someone being obnoxious, be kind. When you see someone being happy and they're "supposed" to be mourning, be kind because often times - it's all an act to cover up what's going on. There's no "look" or "type" of person whose mourning or grieving. People assume that if someone is mourning, they LOOK like it. As if there is a definition of what it looks like because there isn't any. People have scars that are unseen and unknown to those around them. Someone partying it up could be mourning in their own way. Someone laughing and trying to find happiness could be grieving. I was that angry person in the shopping line because I had to buy black clothes for my dads funeral and the year that followed. I was the slow person at the red light because I drove by the dealership my dad once owned and I started to imagine him standing there. I was the obnoxious, happy person trying to cover all the pain. There's no set attitude for grieving or mourning. You'll never know what the person next to you is going through so please...just be kind. When you are given the chance to react to someone, I hope you choose kindness because kindness will surpass hate.