Thursday, February 21, 2013


My mom used to tell me that whenever she saw 7:28 on the clock, she'd make a wish. 7/28 is her birthday, and she thought it was lucky. I thought it was silly until I started paying attention and then I started noticing the time when I saw it on the clock too.

Now, though, I always seem to notice the time at 4:34. I don't know why it became so significant to me, but that's what time I sent Jeremy the last text before he died. I only know that because he sent a text at the same time to his buddy and boss, Mark. Only, I never heard back from him so I know he died within minutes of that time. And now, I see that time on the clock constantly and my heart skips a beat every. single. time. I always wonder....did he get that text from me? Did he read it? And right when all this was going through my head today I looked at the clock only to see it again. 4:34.

When I hit the six month mark and saw this time on my clock, I couldn't hardly stand it. It represented the beginning of the end for me. An unknown moment that will forever plague me. 
The unknown is a horrible place to be. And I think it may haunt me forever. And even when it subsides and I don't think about it as much, every time I see that time on my clock, it will take me there no matter what. 

It's odd that 4:34 is the piece that has manifested itself as a symbol of my grief. Surely this must happen in different ways to different people....but I know I will never again be able to put those numbers together and not think of Jeremy.


  1. For me it's 3:17. That's when my Jeff took his last breath. I looked at the clock while holding his hand, sitting beside him at the hospital bed in our bedroom, 3:17 am. His breath had been ragged and uneven; his previous breaths had contained long spaces in between: too long. So I was looking at the clock while he did not take a next breath. And did not take it and did not take it.
    For a long time (like two years plus) I woke up every. single. night. at 5 minutes of three, which is when I had woken up wide awake for no evident reason and immediately went to him. (I'd been sleeping on the couch for months.) And thus been there when he died.
    But now after 3.5+ years, I often see 3:17 on the clock. And 7:17: the date he died. But I also see 3:13 (our daughter's birthday) and 5:12 (our anniversary) at least as often. ANd sometimes I cry still. But sometimes I am just full of love. For him, for her, for what we had, for what he left.

    I imagine most everyone who reads this will have a story of numbers. Thank you for sharing yours. <3

  2. It is 6:36 on Wednesdays for me, the time I called 911 when I found my husband unconcious on the laundry room floor on August 15. Every Wednesday I find myself reliving every hour of that day until 7:01 which is the time noted on his death certificate. It doesn't matter where I am or what I am doing, my mind keeps focusing on the clock from 6:36 until 7:01. If I am in the car, I turn on the radio with the sound turned down just so I can't see the time:(

  3. 11's chase me. I'll always look at the clock at 11 past the hour.