I spent 20 minutes crying in a Walgreens looking at St. Patty’s day merchandise last January. It had been a year at that point and I was amazed that we’d made it. Not only that we made it, but in some ways were thriving. It makes me sick to think about you not being able to witness some of the greatest moments to come in the lives of Joey, Ce, Cam and Baby Chas.
We talk about you more often now–most times as we hypothesize about your reactions to certain instances we face in life or when news comes about regarding this family member or the other. “You know Mama/Trisha woulda said/did xyz…” It’s smiles and sighs of content of fond remembrance. “Remember when Mama/Trisha did/said abc…” It’s easy, less wrought with grief.
But at times it’s all-powerful and overbearing. It’s bodies wracked with sobs wondering why you. It’s sleepless nights. It sneaks up on me in days when I’m least expecting it. It’s like a swift kick to the gut–temporarily paralyzing and breath-robbing. I will never understand why it had to be you, but I will always be grateful to have had you for the 30 years that I did. You taught me more about myself and life than I had ever even imagined.