After my spouse died away a year ago, I visit his cemetery on the 15th of every month, surrounded by memories and silence. Someone always arrived before me with beautiful flowers. Who might it be? I froze in tears when I learned.
They think grief evolves but never disappears. After 35 years of marriage, I stood in our kitchen alone, stunned by Danny’s morning shuffle’s absence.
One year after the accident, the discomfort of waking up without him remains.
“Mom? Are you ready?” Alice jingled her vehicle keys in the entryway. My kid has her father’s warm brown eyes with gold specks in the proper light.
I forced a grin, “Just grabbing my sweater, dear.”
It was our anniversary and my monthly cemetery visit on the 15th. Alice had been with me for months, apprehensive about my solo journey.
“I can wait in the car if you want some time,” she said as we entered the iron gates.
Dear, that would be lovely. Not long.”
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