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After Life

Wednesday April 4, 2012

“On Monday, I was empty” I wrote in my journal last Thursday. I was so depleted that I really couldn’t write much more then or even until today. As big was the service, the fall was just as large.

After the memorial I cried and cried. The next few days were some of the most emotional I have felt since Dave’s death, with swings of confidence and loss; gratitude and sadness, optimism and loneliness. The roller coaster is back and the grief is magnified by the similar steps after his physical death: cleaning up finding meaning in little nuances of daily life, reminiscing, packing and unpacking memorabilia, seeking out comfort, answering calls from friends. The memorial was his death all over again, emotionally this time. And perhaps in some ways these last 10 day have been my most difficult. Now I face his daily absence as I pick up the pieces of my singular life.
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It’s Always the Little Things

Thursday March 1, 2012

There’s a dusting of icy snow this morning. The kind that fills in the yards, but stays grass green under the tree canopy. It gives a white definition to the flower bed borders and tops of the fences. The streets are clear. Cold and silence permeate the air.
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Inching Along

Saturday, February 11, 2012

“I’m starting to catch glimpses of some small handwriting on the fireplace wall.” Dave will spend hours sitting on the edge of the bed facing the electric furnace fireplace and mantle in our bedroom. “Fine, handwritten words,” he says with a gesture of writing in the air I’ve seen him do in his sleep. It conjures up an image for me of parchment paper with the Declaration of Independence script transparently imposed over the façade of the white wood.
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