Its Wednesday again, the 11th one since that awful day back in July, the 23rd day of the month. When I sat by her bed at the hospital in the early morning hours, holding her hand, feeling her slipping away until she was gone. My daughter was there as well; my son took her husband and the baby home.
Only yesterday I connected the day of the month and realized that our 33rd wedding anniversary was May 23rd, only two months earlier. And that my friend from collage, who was at our wedding and we at hers, Sue was the maid of honor; her birthday was also May 23rd.
The Wednesday and the 23rd, the new markers of my life. The third 23rd is rapidly approaching as I’m swept along unwillingly in the raging river of time. I turn back and watch her slipping away, unable to stop. I love you… I love you… I love you…
Sometimes I feel like I’m under the water, others like I’m barely above. There are others in the current with me, who help each other, some who I now call friends. The current will eventually sweep us to some unknown shore, where hope may still reign of another life. Hope of possibly another to share my journey, but I can’t see that far ahead.
Wherever that river sweeps me, I will always miss and remember my lost love. As the Wednesdays go by and the 23rd’s come and go.