One Year

I thought that I would write about how much I have healed this past year, but in truth, I still feel very much lost and empty, especially late at night.

I thought that I would write about the events of that late night, a year ago, but every time I start thinking about them, I keep wanting to go further back, explaining how things started, and then I realize anew that I don't really know how things really started, and what I really want to do is go back and stop it all from happening.

I thought that I would write about a lot of things, but instead, I spent the past few days in the company of family, and that was the best use of my time. 

Arthur and I finally moved the large china cabinet from the hall, where it has stood since we transported it from the rock cabin just before that place was sold.  And then I spent the next hour or so feeling guilty for finally accomplishing it, just as I still do for every little thing that I finally get done, having put it off for so long. 

The holiday isn't completely ruined for me.  I can look back on the good times and smile, even if that smile is accompanied by a few tears.  And I can watch my grandchildren enjoy a few sparklers with innocent abandon. 

The sense of emptiness is far greater after the visit, than it used to be.