Unexpected trigger…

I passed a hearse as I was driving home from work last night.   Out of the blue, memories came flooding back…   I remembered your hearse.  It was white; I chose white for your hearse.  It seemed appropriate because you were “still a little girl”…

I remembered that conversation with the funeral home director as I was driving home from work last night, and the tears started pouring out of me.

I cried so hard that the road was blurry.  I heard my sobbing as I was driving along, and I relaxed and cried my heart out.

Before you died, I told you I would cry forever.  But the truth is that I spend most of my time holding the hurt in.  Holding my tears in.  Being strong.  Allowing myself to live somewhere between blocking you from my thoughts, and not forgetting you for a single second.

It’s almost 8 years since you died.  Since I crashed the car that you died in.    My life has gone on, but yours ended that day.

That’s not fair.

I passed a hearse as I was driving home from work last night.

 

 

An unexpected trigger.