I was always amazed when people would announce anniversaries down to the years, months and days of a meaningful event which occurred in their past. My memory banks were never programmed to be able to remember dates or names. The events which took place in the month of August, tho of different years, are the only events I can consistently bring up from the storage part of my brain. I can recite them with ease but would always recite them in order. Aug 1, quit smoking, 10th remarried to the Queen, (Her early moniker was “She Who Must Be Obeyed”), 16th my birthday, and the 30th my bride’s birthday.
I have added another day to the list which has suddenly superseded my paltry recollection of dates. That is the 7th day of the month. The celebration of that day actually begins on the the 2nd day of the month when The Queen had lost her ability to swallow. The Hospice nurse and doctor came. With uncomfortable stances and some shifting weight from left leg to right and back, they realized this conversation was going to take place with the queen present. They confirmed what I already knew. Three to five days. Dehydration. Q-tips dipped in water to keep the lips moist. Morphine drops to ease the breathing. Reliving it every month.
Friends, even those who are leaders of the church which abandoned her the last eighteen months of her life, tell me it will get easier, it will get better, the pain will subside. They are partly correct. It has gotten easier, and I am better at hiding the pain from them.
I saw a meme today. “I am a popular loner. I know a lot of people. And a lot of people know me. But my circle is small and I am usually by myself.”