It has been seventeen weeks, five days and one hour since you told me. Since my world shifted on its axis. Since our lives were changed, permanently.
But who’s counting?
I am asked by family and friends how I am dealing with it. If I have gotten used to it, accepted it. There is never just one answer. It is too complex for that. Indeed, it is too complex for words on most days.
I tell them that I accepted it the moment that I was told. And I did. How could I not? There was never ever a question that I wouldn’t. But my heart grieved. For what was lost. For what would be irrevocably changed. But most of all, for the burden that was carried, silently and alone, for too long. My head accepted it. I was rational and logical. But the heart does not know nor does it understand those words. And though there is unconditional love and acceptance, there is more than one layer to ‘getting used’ to something. The head always wraps itself around a problem, a situation, a change, more readily than does a heart.
Hearts have a long memory.
So my answer to that well meaning and concerned question was ‘yes, I’ve gotten used to it’ and ‘no, you never get used to it’. And both answers are true. Perhaps one day I can say that I am well and truly used to it, but I don’t know that that is possible. There are too many memories, 15 years worth, to believe that there will never be a day that I am not jolted back in time or that my heart won’t feel a twinge at what will never be.
But for now I just accept each day as a gift. One more day that, if things had been different, I might not have had. And I know how lucky I am.
Photograph taken by SirenSong1208