In two and a half months, it will be the third anniversary of Al’s death. Right now, I feel differently about it than I did as I approached the last two anniversaries. I guess I now know that so few will notice, and even fewer will acknowledge it. Maybe a part of me is starting to be able to accept that. I don’t think I’ll ever be OK with it or see it as reasonable – but I’m no longer shocked by it. Saddened and resentful, yes – shocked, no.
I feel calmer. Whether it will last as the day approaches
has yet to be seen but I definitely don’t feel as panicked or have the same
sense of trepidation. Maybe I’ll manage to get my act together and order the
Birds of Paradise in time rather than burying my head in the sand and then dashing
round at the last moment.