Disappeared

January 24, 2015
Today is three months since her funeral.  On the "anniversary" days I usually sit quietly and think a lot.  One of the things that I've thought about is the people who have disappeared.  Or the ones who all of a sudden cared.  Both really.  People who I haven't talked to for years suddenly had something to say.  People who I have been close to for years were suddenly "unavailable" or speechless.  People who I had never met were bigger supports than people who I have known my whole life.  They say that tragedy brings out our true colors, and I find that hard to believe.  I know that some of the people who came around, while generally mortified by what happened, were just trying to look good so that they could say that they came over to check on us, I know that some who came by just had never known anyone who had been through such a thing and were curious.  I know that people don't know what to say.  I know that being around sad people makes us uncomfortable as human beings, because we are brought up to believe that crying means that something needs to be fixed, and when there's nothing we can do about it we change the subject, or we quietly leave the person crying to be alone because we think that's what they need.  We all know all these things.  They are taught to us from the time that we are young.  We know that people aren't always what they seem, that people feel the need to "look good" to everyone around them, that people leave, people change, and sadness makes people  uncomfortable...agreed?  What people DONT know, is that every day I PRAY that someone will bring her up.  Her name is my favorite thing to hear.  I love hearing stories about her, though there aren't many out there, they are my favorite stories.  I love it when people tell me that she crossed their mind. YES IM GOING TO CRY.  Part of my soul is missing for crying out loud.  But crying is my favorite thing.  And it's not all sad tears when someone brings her up, part of it is the RELIEF from hearing her name, because every time I hear it, it takes the weight of worrying about her being forgotten off of my heart.  And it's not about the attention, its about knowing that she's remembered, that people haven't forgotten her.  I've been thinking for the last little bit, that if so many people can go on with their lives and forget about me, who they've known for years, how easy it would be for them to forget about her...and that terrifies me.  I don't want her to be forgotten. Ever.




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