Last Saturday

There was a memorial at the Memorial in downtown Tucson.  The media were invited to cover the event and speak with survivors.  TBG and I chose not to attend.  We went over to the Safeway and spent a few minutes reflecting, and that, it seemed, was enough this year.

As Little Cuter said, it's A Day but it's also a day which helped put it into perspective this year.  I spent all day with Christina-Taylor on my shoulder, over my head, in my heart and soul.  The injustice of it all, the mangled lives and devastating losses wrap themselves into my thoughts of her.  Eleven years ago I wondered if it was possible to live with that weight;  it seem I've learned to do just that.

It may be that I was able to soldier on through on Saturday because I've been dealing with death for a while.  Lady Jane was fine then she was sick then she came home and now she's dead.  I spent time at her bedside as she slipped from planning to work at her computer to being unable (unwilling?) to open her eyes.  

Over the course of these last few weeks we laughed at the absurdity of it all, and then told snarky stories about our friends and family, just as we always did.  She was her usual acerbic self, correcting me when I was wrong - by her lights, and those were the only ones which mattered - and complimenting me on most everything else.  

I was there Saturday morning when morphine and lorazepam had dulled her and lulled her.  I held myself together as I told her to look for Christina-Taylor when she got to the other side, and to give her a hug from me.  I kissed her forehead and told her I loved her.  

Twelve hours later she was gone.

There's another hole in my world today.  

January 8th is turning out to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad date.