It's been eight years to the day. The day you died.
I've been worried all month that I'd be upset and depressed. Turns out, I'm perfectly fine.
Strange huh?
Eight years appears to be the magic number. Don't worry mom, I'm fine.
I'm getting married soon, which is wonderful. Shame you wont be there.
I don't cry anymore. Maybe on a bad day, but not for long.
I miss you.
Ps. Happy Birthday Grandma.
1 comment:
Isn't that strange, 8 years must be the magic number? My dad died late March 2001. This was the first year since then that I didn't spend the day playing his favorite songs, crying etc.
But then, I felt bad that I didn't feel as bad. As if not being a wreck that day means I love him or miss him less. Of course, that's not true. It's a good thing that it's not so raw anymore. Didn't stop me from feeling guilty about it though :\
I'm anonymous since I only know you from Subeta, SD (haven't gone there in a long while though), and from reading about the past year of your life on your blog. You have a far more interesting life than I do (therefore I do not blog). Now I have to catch up on your last couple months, LOL. I hope to read that you get the cat you want!
BTW --- you should check out Animal House shelter in Huntley. They have an awesome cat room. One of our cats is from there... they are very nice people to deal with.
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