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July 29 would have been Andy's and my 5th wedding anniversary, if he would have lived to see it.

The last one, what would have been our 4th, came so soon after his untimely and unexpected death, that it was more or less "dessert" on top of the pain pile I was going through at that point. I'm aching, but I'm not as lost as I was then. The sequence was this:

His death
My birthday
Our anniversary.

This all occurred within two months of his passing.

One of the things that has made it particularly painful for me, is the fact that the time we had together was so comparatively short. It took so long to find him, and then I didn't get to have him for very long. It makes me as angry and sad, sometimes, as the thought of my mother's fate: developing Alzheimer's Disease when that was the one fate she most dreaded. Sometimes the gods/fates/universe seem just so downright capriciously unfair that one just wants to sit and howl at the heavens until one has no voice left. As if it would do any good. Or make one feel any better.

So, I just try to sit with the anger, the sadness and the pain for awhile when it hits particularly hard: let it wash through me, acknowledge the validity of the feelings, and then move on, or at least, think that I can. Until the next time. However many steps forward and however many back, in the familiar zig-zag pattern of coping with changes that are devastating in their scope.

I was annoyed, probably out of proportion, with last Monday's mail. There were two items, both addressed to my late husband. One, urging him to apply for information related to Medicare, and the other from a previous health insurer, with all sorts of advice for taking care of one's health(!)

Way, way too late for that, folks.

Welcome, fellow travelers on the grief journey
and a special welcome to anyone new to The Grieving Room.
We meet every Monday evening.
Whether your loss is recent, or many years ago;
whether you've lost a person, or a pet;
or even if the person you're "mourning" is still alive,
("pre-grief" can be a very lonely and confusing time),
you can come to this diary and say whatever you need to say.
We can't solve each other's problems,
but we can be a sounding board and a place of connection.

Unlike a private journal
here, you know: your words are read by people who
have been through their own hell.

There's no need to pretty it up or tone it down..

It just is.

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