It’s two days until Christmas and just past another change in seasons. These changes (solstice and equinox) are another mark of time passed since Tom’s death. I have a new rush of melancholy. I often think of my own death and easy that would be.
It’s hard for me not the think that Tom chickened out; he took the easy way. I guess I am angry too. I watch my kids and hear BoBo talk of what’s wrong. It’s more of the same. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t fix it. It feels like all my fault. I try to make it right with more time together, a tutor, and the new dog. It’s no use.
When I run, it’s worse. I am alone with my thoughts and they aren’t fun. I have my own hurt and I would rather not feel it. When will it end?
Unfortunately, I know the answer is never.
The answer is not never, you have to hold on to hope.