faith · family

one year – one month – one night

It’s been a year since my Aunt Irene passed away. I read the blog I posted one month after it happened and I still feel like I could write exactly the same thing today. I still half expect her to walk in the door when our families get together. I still get that pain in my heart when I know she won’t. I still can’t look at my uncle without wanting to burst into tears every time, and I know his pain far outweighs mine.

https://robinwootton.wordpress.com/2011/08/18/depression-into-singing/

My cousin wrote about the one year mark for him today. You can read it here.

http://coarpk.blogspot.com/2012/07/one-year.html?m=1

There’s a part of me that wishes we didn’t have dates. I know we have to, but I wish we didn’t. That it was always just “today” and that as time goes by we don’t have to look at a calendar and remember all the things that have happened in the past on that day. September 11, December 7, November 3 for me. For others November 22. Just rattling off dates people will have their own set of reflections and memories intrinsically and forever tied to them.

I thought about what happens in a month recently, all the ups and downs, the triumphs, the failures, the newness of new, the stabbing painfulness of what was once. Time is a gift but it’s also a sword, inflicting pain but also fighting the enemy. We are at a battle with time, watching the clock in anticipation, or trying really hard to NOT look at the time when we simply just do not want to leave. But time marches on and we cannot hold it too tightly because it will be like holding the ocean in our hands. There’s nothing for it. You love it, you feel the water wash over you, you taste, smell, see the waves and foam, and you say goodbye when the time comes. And it will always come. But you can always say, I have been in the ocean.

Love and miss you, Aunt Irene. Can’t wait to see you again.

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