Recently, in reading another blog, I read how a particular blogger rarely (if ever) returned to his old posts. Post and move on seemed to be his mode. Me, however, I am quite the opposite.
Often I refer back to old posts for perspective on how life has changed. Sometimes, I am drawn there like a tracking dog following the tracks of some undefined feeling or instinct. Earlier this week, my pull there was a combination of the two.
I wondered, How is this day significant? I looked back through my posts and remembered days that, although I’d love to forget, I will honestly never be able to fully put behind me. Those were tougher times than today for sure. Even though the days are well behind me, the experiences without doubt had a chiseling effect (be it gouging lasting scars or smoothing of rough edges) on the shaping of the me of today.
As the anniversary of Tom’s passing nears, I find myself analyzing my new-found acceptance of the loss. I ask: Is it wrong that I am no longer caught up in the life-that-never-was? Am I supposed to be sad? Or is it okay that I am generally happy again? Even my reference to Tom’s passing has changed from “my husband died” to “YaYa’s father died.”
It didn’t mean for it to happen; it just did.