It's not as if I ever forget he's gone.
He is always a part of me, my insides.
But every year, as March approaches April, my world feels a little colder, hazy.
Along with spring showers, the season of sorrow drizzles on my heart.
The dampness sort of clings to me.
It chills me to the bone.
It's hard to shake.
Death = A season of sorrow. It's inevitable.
At first, its the only season there is but time goes on and your heart and life mend.
The transition into my season of sorrow feels seamless. So seamless, its unsettling
It's no longer harsh or overwhelming, it just seems to creep into my heart and thoughts.
It leaves the same way...Subtly.
The strangest part is that its so unconscious. I don't plan to start feeling blue mid-March but inevitably, memories creep in unguarded and unexpected moments.
Is there some kind of unconscious guard that goes down during this time?
I think about him more. I look at pictures more often. I talk about him more...at least to myself.
Its a catch 22. I like it. I like remembering him, his smile, his sense of humor, memories only he and I share.
But it stings.
While it allows me to feel connected to him in a more palpable way, its also a stark reminder of his absence and the huge void in my world without him.
