Booby traps

I wish I could convey the shock that comes with the recurrent pangs of pain and grief. It's as though I am going about my day and everything is sort of fine, and then a regular thing happens and it sparks a memory that just hurts too much or a painful desire, "if only".
The other day I was on social media and I saw the chamber of commerce is hosting the annual painting of the paw prints on Bay Street. (Jacksonville=Jaguars=paw prints=paw prints painted on a street leading to the stadium) I somehow never realized this was a community thing, but it is and how cool is it? It's a family friendly event, early on a saturday morning. You just sign up online and meet at parking lot and are assigned to a team to go paint a paw print on the road. Then there's a shindig afterward.
And I just missed Eli so much. If he were here and well we would go paint some paw prints. He would be all about it. And then he would probably ask to drive to his paw print all the time.
But he's not and we won't.

This kind of thing happens all the time. It's what makes it so hard to be alive and participate in life. There are booby traps waiting for me everywhere. I can be wise and avoid difficult situations only to a certain degree. Grief comes for me all the time.
Last night we had the DNC on and they started playing that song "Fight Song". I hate that song. It's not a bad song, it just kills me. It was popular last summer and a number of people sent it to me for Eli. I did like it then. Now it makes me want to punch someone.
It is hard to participate in life when at any moment you feel like you need to evacuate from wherever you are and from whatever you are doing.