| ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Reminders, reminding... We all have strange ways of mourning and honoring, don't we? For years after A's death I couldn't delete the last e-mail she'd sent. That it was a group email, nothing personal really, couldn't convince me to let it go. They were her words. The last ones I'd ever see blinking back at me. Now it's a reminder to "Call P" that I can't delete from my phone. The date is for early September and in the hurry of work I didn't want to forget to call her that night to see how she was feeling. She was at home then, still able to walk around and dress herself and take phone calls. Just three weeks later she'd be in hospice care, unable to even make it to the bathroom without assistance. I feel a twinge of guilt for having to set a reminder to call her. But there's that two-hour time difference and sometimes even I was thinking about her most of the day I'd look at the clock and suddenly it would register that our narrow window of time had squeezed almost completely shut. Whatever it took to make sure I didn't miss any possible moments. Now everytime I go through my phone's list of reminders and edit out old ones, I stare at the brief notice for a few seconds and then move on, unable to let even that go. 11:38 am - 04.04.16
sounds: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- previously on ... - next time on ...
jealous, much Shivers? - 13.07.16 - 8:43 pm same as it never was - 05.05.16 - 1:00 pm so far I haven't burned the place down - 23.04.16 - 11:34 am we got this - 16.04.16 - 4:08 pm prove it, bitch - 13.04.16 - 3:01 pm |
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