Since I feel the need to post this sometime, I'll do it today. This is the anniversary. A year ago tomorrow my nephew died. He was seven months old. He had an undiagnosed heart condition. It was terrifying for my family. He was so young. It was horrifying for me. Two months before his parents thought Chickadee had the same thing as their son. She didn't, but there was no way to know for sure at the time. A year ago this week is when my Chickadee's right hand stopped working the way she wanted it to. For good. I remember because when I flew out to my nephew's funeral it was the first time I got comments about it. Why was she touching her hair over and over? Did she have a pinched nerve? Did she have headaches? I didn't mind. Much. They seemed logical questions to me. Anniversaries of tragedies are difficult. Hubbend planned a wonderful evening. He made reservations weeks in advance for a romantic dinner at our favorite expensive restaurant on Valentine...
The life of a train wrecked woman, trying to get back on track.