I just got an email from Nicole about the blog and realized I had not posted in a long time and I think it is because I have nothing to say.
When Tom first died I cried and cried in fear of forgetting. And now I am. And I was afraid of losing, and now I am. And I was afraid of being alone, and I am. Tom's car is dying, his office is changing, and my memory is slipping.
There is someone who is out there that wants to tell me that is ok. Time moves on. Memory fades to reduce pain, cars die of old age, and there is no sense in keeping a 50 foot shrine in an air conditioned room in the house. It is my wish to kick all those people very hard in a place that bruises and bleeds. I am tired down to my bones and it is not going away.
This morning I managed to put sheets on the bed. Don't ask how long I have been sleeping without them.
At a wedding this weekend a guy hit on me. He was old (my age), and had a big belly, and an ex-wife and an 18-year old son who he is kicking out of the house. It is unbelievable to me I can't go home and tell Tom about this funny guy.
Apparently I am rambling. I have nothing to say.
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