Memories in Spanglish

Of Times That Dont Exist.

This time of year...  It always seems to catch me by surprise.  His birthday, Father's Day, my birthday, the anniversary of his passing.  Just when I think I have found a way to have peace without him in my life I am reminded that I am still grieving.  It must be so deep and so in my subconscious that its clock remembers.  I stopped counting the years because I don't think it matters; it doesnt change this new relationship I have with that new friend, Grief.  The years past don't change the amount of missing.  Time seems to make things easier to understand; makes me stronger and more capable of grieving without depression - I call it "Positive Grieving".  It works.  But this time of year things seem to revert just a bit and for some reason it always catches me off guard.  This time of year reminds me that I still miss him with all my heart; that some wounds don't heal but instead become a part of a life story, of our life story. His story lives on and evolves in every part of him that lingers, in every part of what I do, of what my daughter does, of what Summer unexpectedly seems to remember.