…it seems like he died a lifetime ago. What little faith and spirituality I possessed died when he did.
I remember standing next to his bed in hospice and praying for the leukemia to leave his body and come into me. At least once, every couple of weeks, I think to myself, “He should be here instead of me. I wish he was here instead of me. The family, esp Mom, need him more than they ever needed me.”
I know he could have helped my sisters and mother grieve over me. He would have seen them through it. Life would’ve gone on and been better with my absence. They all could have created a fantastic myth surrounding me the way they have done with him.
April 23 is my least favorite day of the year. I predict I will sleep through most of it. It may sound like a terrible thing, but considering I used to spend the day cradling a large bottle of whiskey or wine, it’s not that bad at all.
It’s all about extending the same patience and giving the same love to myself that I extend to those around me. It’s getting easier. Though, I still have many miles to travel.😌