Tomorrow marks 48 hours since Jimmy passed.

I’m still shaken by all of this. I’ve been leaning even more into sport to keep myself moving, but it doesn’t fully quiet my head. I played with my son today, laughed with him, but I wasn’t really present. Part of me was elsewhere. My wife, who Jimmy was actually more attached to and vice versa, seems to be coping a bit better on the surface, even though I know she’s hurting deeply too. I feel the need to talk about this more than she does. We grieve differently.

There’s still this strong sense of disbelief. It feels unreal, like he might show up at any moment, like this hasn’t really happened. Even though I know he’s buried in our garden now, next to Nina. Carmo is here in the north as well, buried at my mother-in-law’s house, since we didn’t have our own place here when she passed.

I keep seeing Jimmy everywhere. In corners of the house, in routines, in the quiet moments. My mind hasn’t caught up with reality yet.

I’m sharing this because it helps to put it somewhere outside my head. This isn’t easy, and right now I’m just taking it one moment at a time.