It Really Doesn’t…   Leave a comment

Three years ago today, he died. I marked the hours over the last few days. The last conversation, slipping away, the ambulance ride, the doctors and ICU, the decision, the paperwork and telling children. The anniversaries are over again for another year.

We, even I, say it gets easier. It is one of those lies we tell, sort of like that fib about forgetting the pain of childbirth. It becomes more distant, less socially acceptable to remember and feel it. You learn to bury it deeper, hide it better, remove yourself. It does become something different, something that is so much a part of existence and being that it isn’t particularly remarkable.  It is like the chronic pain of an old injury.  It may hurt constantly, but you rarely notice it or allow it to impact life.

Only one person in my life even remembered or noticed.  I sent his parents an email, letting them know I was thinking of them this evening. I am not sure if I did it to let them know that I remember or to remind them (or pettily, to point out that they did not acknowledge it).  If they didn’t remember, well quite honestly, I feel that they should, and maybe it will bring them comfort if they did.

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Posted October 6, 2009 by unusuallyeverafter in Life

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