Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Ten Years

That day is always there. That bad, horrible worst day. The intense, exquisite pain has faded. But the dull ache never leaves. Like a rock I always carry around with me.

I still see you from time to time. Maybe a face in the news. A dress in a shop window. Someone's hair in the crowd. Just glimpses. I can never get a good look.

I'll read a story and it'll mention a date, like "on this date in 1998..." 

"She had six years left," I'll think. It's a good thing we can't see into the future.

It all just seems like a dream.



4 comments:

The folks! said...

Our thoughts and prayers are with you now [today]and always. We love you, Mike. The folks!

Mark Schroeder said...

Knowing you were grieving as much for the loss of your wife as I was for the end of my marriage is just as much of bond I have with you, maybe even more than our military time and fear of heights. Proud to be your friend and fellow gentleman traveller.

Ro said...

Sometimes the pain is just as sharp. I miss her more each year, each day. I love you.

Unknown said...

Thank you everyone.