I’m heading into the run of second anniversaries that begin in February and run for about 4 months – his surgery; the complications hitting and the roller-coaster of his illness; him dying. Something I’m acutely aware of. In my journey, the big anniversary for me is the March “complications hitting” anniversary. That’s the day from which…
widowed fear of the future
What if I Forget?
What If I Forget …. His smell. His funny lips and the way they turned up at the corner. His skin. His dry skin that always needed chapstick, and his back that always needed to be scratched. What If I forget … Those piercing blue eyes that became someone else’s eyes when he donated them to the eye bank. The way they looked at me. Through me.