It is a beautiful autumn day. I am walking city streets, the warm sunshine tickling my cheeks. Thoughts of her invade my consciousness like bolts of electricity, without warning. Appropriate, as she was very lively. Kinetic.
I try my damnedest to will them away, just like every other time she decides to invade my thoughts. Especially on a day like today, when I am moaning and groaning to myself. Always just to myself. Aloud is not allowed. For then I may have to admit how selfish and ungrateful I am.
I wonder to myself what she would do in this particular life circumstance which I currently and begrudgingly reside. I don't contemplate it long because I know. She would do anything to be in my situation. Anything at all. She would grab this opportunity up and make the absolute best of it, for it beats the alternative. It is hands-down better than where she lies now. Her grave.
She and I share so many similarities. So much of our lives and stories are the same. Accomplishments, defeats, experiences. She has three beautiful babies, same as me. For all intents and purposes, she is me and I her. Except I am here, trudging the road of my existence and she does not and will not have this "opportunity" with which I have been blessed. This scares me. It also shocks me into some awareness that maybe, just maybe, I can do as she would and Just. Effin'. Do. It.
If for no other reason or motivation, and my life is full of them--people who are more precious to me than they will ever know--today I do it for her. Just for her. Because she would happily do it if she were able, and somehow her lack of choice in the matter is now my passion.
It has been said that some people have to die so that others of us may live. That is less than the salve needed to repair a soul in grief, I think. Though today it may be a fitting life lesson. Taught by her, as only she could. She helps me in death just as she did in life.
Today, I will not complain. Not even to myself. It is a luxury she does not have, so it is one I will not allow.
Just for today.
