Friday. Again.

I’m not sure Fridays will ever be normal again. I wake up and I hurt. She’s really gone and sometimes I can pretend she isn’t. How can a person leave such a hole in you? We lose so much that we didn’t know we had. 

It’s the kidlets 7 yr 5 month day. Not a birthday, but she was born on a Friday the 13 so it’s lucky to me. 

I have to drive by the airport to get out of town. The LifeFlight copter sits there along the road. I see it and I think about sitting at the gas station waiting for the tank to fill and the nurse in the phone telling me that Her heart had stopped again on the flight and they were diverting it to Santa Fe. I saw the helicopter go over our heads and thought “that’s it. That’s my mom dead above me”. And knowing that killed something in me. I hate hearing that damn thing take off and land. It will always mean death to me.

I haven’t talked about that with anyone. Seeing the helicopter that morning. They got her heart going again and it lasted the day. But I know when I lost her. Right there at the gas pump watching the lights blink overhead and hearing the distinctive chop-chop-chop of the blades through the air.

Fridays will always be hard.

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About brandil79