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Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Memories of Memories

Yesterday it rained. Actually, it's been raining for a little while here, on and off, but yesterday something happened. Dayne and I are both feeling under the weather so I kept him home from school so he could work through whatever it is that he has. He was laying on the couch watching a show and I was sitting in the bedroom, I thought maybe if I let him lay there he would fall asleep, but that didn't end up happening! As I sat there I heard a sound, it started out softly, a pittering. It came from outside and my window was open so the sounds came right in. The pittering got louder and faster within seconds and I quickly realized that it was rain. No, not just rain, it was rain and hail, pouring down on our house. I jumped up and rain to the living room calling, "Dayne! Look outside!" as I went. He jumped up and ran to the window, "Is that HAIL!?" he asked as we pulled the window open. "Yeah, it sure is."
It's so ridiculous, but Dayne and I get excited for rain, we love the rain, and when it's pouring enough for it to hail, well, that is exciting! We run around pulling open all the windows, sniffing the air. "Can you smell it bud? Doesn't it smell nice?" I always ask Dayne that, every single time it rains. I love the smell of the rain, the smell of wet cement and grass, there's just something about it that makes me feel peace, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
The rain passed quickly, it was one of those things that blows through and is gone as quickly as it arrived. Dayne settled back onto the couch with his pillow and blanket to relax and I walked towards the bedroom, as I did it, it struck me...a memory...of last year, like deja vu, but not. I was remembering the feeling of remembering doing something with Dayne while I was pregnant with Alexandra. A memory of a memory. So this is it right, the second year will be filled with memories of the pain, then the numbness, then the pain of the first year.
I have thought a lot about if this journey is going to get easier as time goes by, and I have decided that "easier" isn't the right word. It isn't going to get easier, just different and new. My cold desolate mountain of grief just gained some trees and I guess it's my new job to maneuver through them without forgetting where I'm headed or where I've come from.
Not easier, just different...and more complicated.

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