Sunday, August 20, 2017

Ten Years

Ten years.

Ten years in which I have learned to keep busy, and the sense of accomplishment from that, alone, is a sort of partial compensation.

I get a twinge when anyone makes any reference to "putting a gun to your head," or any visual reminder of such.  A concealable reaction, so it's all good.  Can't expect people to walk on eggshells around me forever.  It's not always could be a line in a script or a gesture by a character in a movie.  I can live with it.

I also wince a little when I see a bald pate, fringed round with silver.  Silly, I know, but I can live with that, too.

I have mostly managed to replace my memory of his last few moments with memories of the times we had fun, so...yay me.

We had that epic trip in 2003--the one where I learned to love driving.  A lasting joy.

He would have been an articulate voice against the chaos.  And a reasonable one.  The shoulder that used to shield me from the terrors is gone, and I have learned to deal with that.

Once again, I thank from the bottom of my heart the friends who rallied round in so many ways...I would not have got through it without you!

I miss him.  I expect I always will.

SlĂ inte mhath!


  1. You're a brave woman, Veronica Prior.

    1. I'm afraid I fall short of that by a long shot, Nelly! I just muddle through...

  2. Sad anniversary but you made it.
    Now Hurricane Harvey is breathing down your neck, dammit!

    Sending prayers for your and your family's safety.

    Just know that I am fighting Trump with all my fire and being!
    Love and miss you,

  3. Surfie! I miss you, too! I would love to fight Trump with you!

    We are outside the worst of the storm...minor flooding in town, but nothing catastrophic like Houston! OMG!

    Email me or something and let me know how you are doing...