Snippets of Grief

 In a couple of hours, it's going to be the 2nd of February -- 4 months since you left. I still find myself doing stupid things -- I'll be thinking how it's been 4 months since you died, and in the same breath, I'll reach for my phone to text you to come over. Summer has settled nicely into her new home, but you know that, because you went with her. Don't think I don't know it was you, banging around H's place. And then... you left. And now you're... you're where? Not here. Too far away.

 Sometimes, the most not-about-you things remind me of you. Today is K's birthday, and all I can think about is all the "old" jokes I teased her with on the way to San Churro last year, and I don't even know if you went -- but I think of you anyway.

 It's been 3 months since I heard your voice. How can it be so long, and yet... not?

It's January 1st; the first January first without you in it since 1972. The first without you in my life in some form for the past six or so years. What did we do last year? I can't even remember.

I can't believe it's been 2 months since I started this, two months since you left us.

 It's been a full calendar month since you left. And that's still how I think of it, so much -- "left", like you took a walk and you'll be back any day now. I don't know how, but life goes on going on. Summer had her first visit at her new home yesterday. Did you see how frightened she was? That, if nothing else, would have made you want to be here again, I know it would have. She still needs you. So do I.

 It's been 4 weeks since they told me you died. Exactly 4 weeks since I found myself standing outside your unit, crying lightly, and shaking; Summer hiding terrified beneath the bed that still supported your empty body - empty because you were gone from us all by then. 4 weeks and this still feels like a nightmare I have yet to wake from.