Today marks exactly one week since George passed away. My mind is still foggy and my heart continues to sink into the pit of my stomach. Upon returning to work today, I kept my office door closed for most of the day and only had one notable emotional collapse. I really do pride myself on putting on a brave face whenever I enter the workplace. Even during the months prior when George’s health was slowly deteriorating, I bore his illness privately. I wanted to be strong for my players who were venturing into a new chapter of their lives by either entering their first year of college, or dealing with the nervousness that creeps in as graduation approaches. But now I cower behind closed doors and disappear in my thoughts of times that feel like eons ago. The most common question I got today wasn’t “how are you doing?” but “are you getting enough sleep?” It became apparent to me quickly the baggage I carry from his death is plastered underneath my eyes.
I miss the strength and optimism he provided me. He was the bravest person I knew. He dealt with stage 4 cancer but you would never know until his final weeks. He was charismatic, and always had cheerful eyes and a bright smile. Writing these words are plucking my tear ducts like a harp. I’ll open up about his character later when I’m more composed.