Tomorrow is Monday. Just a Monday. No significant date. Except that it's a week from the one year anniversary of Eric's death. I'm starting to feel the butterflies, the anxiety. I'm afraid I'm going to give into the sobs. Not the little teary eyed that I get now and then, but the heart wrenching, exhausting, body racking sobs. I haven't had any in quit some time. I'm afraid of them. I'm afraid of how they make me feel. I'm afraid of how they make my daughter feel. How can I stop them???
I haven't been back to his grave since Memorial day, in May, right after his death. There were lots of us there, we all shared a beer for him. I didn't even cry that day. Well, maybe a little. I'm thinking about going on his death day. I feel bad that I haven't been back. My excuse is it's an hour and a half away. I won't mention that I've been in the area at least 6 times in the last few months. For me, it seems like another finality. To make it more real. Of course it's been real for almost a year now, but sometimes it doesn't seem like it.
I want to do something to remember Eric. But what? My daughter will take a few hours out of school to come with me. It's at a Veteran's Cemetery and he was cremated so he doesn't have a head stone, but a plaque in the ground that is about a foot by 6 inches. I can't leave anything there, except flowers, which get removed after a few days.
Maybe deciding to go is a mistake. Too much, too soon. I need someone to tell me it's ok to not go. But I want to go, but I don't want to go....
I just don't know.