Donuts

On Friday I bought a box of donuts at the grocery store. By the time I got home I was in tears. Yes, because of a box of donuts.

When my Dad was living with us I did everything I could to feed, feed, feed him. It was important to me that he gain, then later maintain, his weight. I would often buy donuts, cookies, ice cream, anything sweet to tempt him. Because, honestly, cholesterol and fat grams were not a concern.

After his passing I no longer had a need to buy that type of food. Although my son would probably dispute this in true six year old fashion, we do not need this kind of food so I do not buy it.

The process of grief is unexpected. On a startlingly calm day a memory can strike, rendering you mute. The closet door that I have stuffed emotions in for the past three years is starting to open a little at a time. This can be painful, but I know it is necessary.

And yes, the donuts are gone. My family ate them immediately. Maybe I need to buy some more.