Today is an anniversary but there is no cause for celebration.
Today marks five chances to ring in a New Year,
five missed Mother’s Day brunches,
five Father’s Day barbeques,
five World Series games,
five Christmas mornings,
Birthdays, holidays and other milestone days are painful reminders of who is missing from my life and there is no distraction grand enough to avert my attention.
In the days and weeks following a loved one’s death, people tend to say things like, “give it time, it will get easier.” Five years later and I don’t think people will ever know exactly what to say to me when it comes to losing my parents. There truly are no magic words that I know of, except perhaps “you can wake up now, it was all a bad dream”.
The ironic thing is that it actually does get easier with time. Time is a gift for those left behind. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but it helps.
Five years later, it’s not a constant, overwhelming, all consuming grief, but within the little things, where grief hides, that hit me when I least expect it. These are the moments when I realize I am slowly forgetting things I swore I never would and it scares me. I make a conscious attempt to replay poignant moments in my mind in an effort to hold on; anything to hold the memories close.
My mom and dad live on in me, my sister and Lucas but the hole in my heart will forever be present. Forever gaping and raw.
After five years I am still grieving.
