Archive for September, 2013

It used to be my favorite month. A birthday month, what’s not to love? We got married September 22nd, my parents’ anniversary. Now, I mostly keep my head down until I can get through the month. The birthday is okay I guess, but I remember the treatment I used to get for all the birthdays we were together. It’s not the same now, obviously. It’s mostly just a day when I get older. The anniversary this year makes it one more year I’ve been alone than years we were married. Not really much point in celebrating. I’ll remember, of course, but I don’t feel like doing anything special.

I don’t look forward to September.


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One Big Forest

Over the past couple of days, I’ve been reading through my old posts. It’s a bit cathartic, in a way. The really emotional ones make me cry all over again and I realize that I am slowly making my way through. One thing struck me this time, though. There have been a lot of times when I felt like I was almost through this awful forest of grief. When I was optimistic about almost being to the other side. And still, I don’t feel like I really am. I understand that this grieving journey is different for everyone. Some find their way through in a few years, while others take a very long time…if they ever find their way through at all. I’m definitely in the slow camp. But the dark isn’t quite as dark consistently now. The scar tissue is tougher. I can answer questions about what happened without choking up. But I’m starting to think that maybe the forest doesn’t end. Maybe you just get to a thinner stand of trees. I’ll take that.


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Stupid Bike

Hadley wanted me to get a bike so we could go bike riding together.  I finally agreed to it this weekend. Nothing fancy, just an inexpensive one from a random store. It was already put together, so we rolled it out of the store to the car. Getting it in the back of the car was a problem. It wasn’t particularly heavy, but it wasn’t super light; it was awkward enough that it would have been much easier with another person helping. I got more and more frustrated, and not just because I couldn’t get the thing into the car. It’s because so many things would sometimes be easier with another person.

Stupid bike.

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