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Tuesday, November 10, 2009


When he first died, every dream of him was colored by his death. He was either dying or dead-and my dreams (when I did dream of him which was rare) were painful. Sunday night he was in my dreams and we were packing to go somewhere. It wasn't an extraordinary dream, we weren't happy in it. We were just going about business as usual. But I woke up, cheered by the visit. This was a gift from him to me and I was grateful.
It is a no brainer that life has taken on new meaning in light of the tragedy of his death. But the full impact of this is an everyday education. I have been taught the hard lesson of how precious the people you love are and I brace myself for the losses that I will yet endure. I realized yesterday that my cat is 10 and I thought this morning that that loss will come at some point in the future. After losing Bruce, the losses are so much harder to bear.
The days go by, and sometimes I force myself to think of him, even though it is painful. There is almost respite in letting myself be distracted by other thoughts. But all of this contributes to the loss, and I so understand the ambivalence-the wanting to dwell on the memories, look at the photos and feel the pain, and the need to disengage from the grief and put one foot in front of the other and not think at all of the loss.

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