November 8, 2012

   To me, this date will forever be etched in my memory.  It was the first day since I was 4 years old that B would not be in my life.  He was gone.  9:42 pm my life was forever altered.

I was without a lover.
Without a best friend.
Without a father to my children.
Without my greatest cheerleader.

It's weird what your brain will let you remember about particularly traumatic events.  I remember that I was at my friends' house talking about the kids.  The phone rang and I let it go to voicemail. When I picked up the message it was B's work telling me he was taken to the hospital and it didn't look good. I remember dropping the phone, my friend putting me in the car, and her hauling ass to the hospital.  I remember going to the bad news room.  I remember my dad and step mom being there, my friend being there, and B's dad and brother being there.  I remember the chaplain (sort of). I remember getting the horrible news.  I remember going to see his body (twice).  I remember ripping the coroner's assistant a new one because he made an off color remark.  I remember giving Gift of Life permission to harvest his organs.  Then there is a whole lot of nothing.  I remember posting that he passed away, and making a few phone calls.  I vaguely remember the funeral director telling me that he wouldn't give Brian a traditional funeral because I couldn't afford it.  Then there's nothing again until I got the pictures together for the story boards for the celebration of life.  I remember vaguely people coming to the celebration, and the people that tried to save him giving me a detailed explanation of his last minutes.  Then again, a whole lot of nothing. I don't think I really start to remember anything else until about February of 2013.
     I look at pictures of me in the months following and I look like a shell of myself.  I don't remember any of the holidays that happened in 2012, even with pictures and anecdotes from others.  I  take great interest in stories anyone is willing to tell me about those few months because my brain has literally erased them from my mind.  I always wonder what would happen if this memories were suddenly released.

Would I become catatonic?
Would I cry for days?
Would the pain be so heart crushing that I would literally die of a broken heart?

Sometimes, I wish I could remember.  Then a quick memory will fly up of some time, long ago when we were happy.  A tear steals down my cheek, and I remember why I'm happy that I can't remember.