As Expected

"Last published on May 3, 2009," and now, Saturday will mark 3 years since Alice died. In the interim, I've had fleeting moments of feeling exposed by my words here and have thought about taking the blog down. But I want L to see these passages when she knows how to read and is ready to understand more of the details of what happened to her aunt--her Auntig Alice--and how her father coped. OMG she is learning so quickly, and according to her pre-kindergarten teachers, soon she may be writing more than her name. Yes, thinking about L helps take my mind off my numbing sadness.

Although, it's hard to admit that I'm not as devastated lately. My feelings aren't as raw as they were, despair doesn't taunt everywhere I go. I am generally uncomfortable, yes. I grieve silently, mostly on my own. I haven't cried in a few months, I think because I've already cried so much.

Inside somewhere, and this is hard to admit as well, I feel good about having allowed myself to feel the true misery of Alice's death and to let it all out in the form of this blog. It's been messy, for sure. Still, I suffer most when I consider the forever part of not seeing and feeling Alice in person. Oh, Alice.

As I deal with getting older--it's true, I am--I sense momentary relief that Alice doesn't have to experience the continued indignities of losing aspects of her youth. Then I feel angry at her, and resentful that she left before we could experience the challenges together.

When I think about it, Alice seemed on her way to growing older defiantly, just the way she approached so many things in her life. She wasn't fighting maturity, yet her physical fitness and unadulterated looks suggested a kind of f`ck-you attitude towards certain expectations of how women should age. What the f`ck am I talking about, she was 36, still at the prime of her physical beauty.

By the way, this blog has a new look, for a couple of reasons. One, to say I'm still here and living life without Alice changes all the time. Two, so browsers such as Firefox don't jumble the text.

I remain missing Alice like crazy.

I'm going to go sleep more now.