It’s been a lazy day, a meeting and a movie and a nap followed by a junk-food dinner (I’ve convinced the boys — and myself — that this is an appropriate holiday tradition). During my nap, I dreamed of Jack but for once I didn’t wake up sad after “seeing” him again. In the morning I’m meeting Uncle Eddie at the meeting I went to the Sunday after Jack died, two of us scarred by death and loss over the holidays hanging on to each other, which is really the only way to heal. And when I look back over the past eleven months, there has been healing. Also a lot of pain, but that’s just how it works. The scars will always be there; whether they’re visible at a glance is a matter of time and perspective.
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