8 more days til Christmas. What? Wasn’t it just her birthday? Where did Halloween and Thanksgiving go? We’ve already had our early Clancy Family Christmas in Seattle? I remember bits of all these things, and if I put my mind to it, I can concentrate and come up with detailed memories, but seriously…
Time continues to confuse the hell out of me.
The day after Christmas will be 14 months since her birthday…
14 months we will have been without her. 14 months we will have been among the living dead; our fellow zombies that are somehow walking through this life without their children here to hold our hands.
Time ceases to mean anything, and yet it means everything. A moment can stretch to a day, hours into months…time is no longer a linear, progressive thing. I am no longer in a hurry to “get anywhere,” nor do I find myself under any pressure to “do anything” within a specified amount of time. When you are facing a lifetime without your child, the sense of urgency about other things just disappears.
And yet, I am tied to time. Every month has a 26th and every month has a 1st. Every holiday in every month of every year marks another memory absent of her presence. When the clock hits 10:15, I think of her (her due date), 10:26, I think of her (her birthday). At 1:11, I see 11/1 (the day she died).
Time means nothing, and yet it defines everything.
“Time heals,” “time flies,” “time is precious,” “don’t waste your time”….
I miss my daughter. I miss her all the time.
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