Sometimes…

For the most part, I like to think that I have come out the other side of this whole…grief thing.  I can navigate life fairly well, and it’s the very rare day that Im taken down by thoughts.  And even then, its more of a bad moment – instead of wondering when the end will come.  Every so often, I pause.  To remember.  A song, a smell, a person.  Most times I can smile.  Smile and see the other side.  I can push aside the anger and the guilt.  And for the most part, I can be happy for others who have what I don’t.

The list of things or places I avoid, grows smaller everyday.  And while a day not too long ago – I would go out of my way to avoid stores, and people – I now manage to grocery shop one day a week.  I interact with people.  I love the kids with a love that is no longer reserved, and while I do have the fleeting thoughts of “What if” and occasionally pull back from something because its going too fast, and too far – I like to think I have made it out the other side with a well rounded view of the world.

I can enjoy sunny days, I can laugh at jokes, I can make friends – and sometimes – if needed – let them go.  I can find happiness in the small things.  I can smile at others, and partake in their happiness as well.  My heart still knows, as I suspect it always will, when certain days roll around.  But for the most part, life is…good.  We have our bumps.  Our ups and downs.  Our bad days.  Our rough patches.  Everyone does, and I am not exempt.  As strong as I try to be, I do admit to falling victim to crappy days.  It happens.

But that doesn’t change the fact that, not too long ago, I too loved someone.  Very deeply.

I have swung to different extremes on the pendulum.  I have tried forgetting, and I have tried forcing everyone in my path to remember with me.  Both have gone as well as one might assume.  No matter how hard I try to forget – it simply will never happen.  Because what the mind forgets, the heart remembers – and will never forget.  Forcing people to remember only leads to frustration on my part.  Because no one will remember them the way I do.  And while that’s not wrong, its not right to force someone into it either.

So often I wish someone would say her name, unprovoked.  And for so long, that bothered me.  That no one, would ever say her name.  That no one would remember her with me.  That no one would know her the way I did, or ever care to.  As time has worn on, I have come to accept this.  And become ok with this.  She didn’t mean the world to anyone else, and that’s ok.  She shouldn’t.

But every so often, life has a way of surprising you.  When you least expect it.  This afternoon, I checked my mail.  It wasn’t until I ripped my way through it did I find an envelope.  With a letter.  And one of those simple gestures.

Something that will mean absolutely nothing to anyone else – meant more than I can honestly say with words.  A small gesture, unprovoked, and nestled between the words and in the story of how said gesture came to be: was the word I have been looking for, for years.  Her name.

Life has a funny way about it.  Taking and giving.  Pushing and shoving.  Coming and going.  But every so often, its like life takes a break from pushing people down – and offers a small something.  A token, In memory.  For someone that meant absolutely nothing to one person, and means the world – to another.

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