I haven’t written anything lately. I’m not sure if I can any more. Each word, each thought, each memory brings back that night and those unspeakable words. The feeling that comes with the instantaneous knowledge of death is almost indefinable. Each time that moment starts to raise it’s head panic overtakes me. My heart speeds up, I gasp for air, my throat closes down fortunately so no screams emerge. At this point I shut down and look for something else around to take my attention. Even writing this hurts unbelievably. So I choose to not talk about it hoping it will help me not think about it. The thoughts emerge whenever I start to write or think about writing or I see something that reminds of that day or do something with Mary’s estate.
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue to fight off these images and feelings. So I will ignore them as best I can. I will do something else, I will pretend it didn’t happen if I can. Anything to stop the pain and tears.
I can still talk about Mary to the kids like she’s at her house. But that’s all.