Saturday, June 22, 2013



The sun would seep through the doors.

My eyes would blink with hesitation.


They'd open and it would hit my heart like a sledgehammer.

The stark fact that I was still breathing.

The thought of knowing that I had a possible 60 more seconds, let alone 5 minutes, let alone another day, was my hell.

It was the beginning days and months of Michael's death.

Then the minutes became bearable. And then the days. And then I would play with the thought of making plans a week ahead.

This was the beginning.

The end.

And now, in retrospect, the days I have pride in knowing I held on.

1 second.




1 comment:

  1. I am having on of those days where I can't seem to focus. At almost 2 years I am fed up with this whole grieving crap. Your post reminds me how far I have come and to be kind to myself. Thanks