Dates are very strange. Honestly, what is the significance of a date? For a birthday, are we really that much happier to have the person around on that day? For an anniversary, do we really appreciate and love the person that much more on that day? You can tell that my answer is probably no.
I think about Simon alot. In fact, grief and sadness does not wait around for important dates. However, despite this healthy does of cynacism, there is something eerie about his birthday and the anniversary of his death.
For the past four years, we have gone away for his anniversary. He died in our house so we don’t want to be here on the night that he died. It is tragic enough to replay the events of the evening from a resort. We don’t need to be at the scene.
Last night was our first 1/24 at home since January 24, 2005. As we drove back into the neighborhood at 10:45, exactly one hour after we had found Simon, I had flashbacks of the snow and ice covered streets. I remembered running across my lawn, in slippers through six inches of snow, to a neighbors house as I tried to perform CPR. I remembered the stillness and quiet as we returned home from the hospital without our son.
As the years go by, the constant intensity of the pain subsides, but the memories and visions remain crystal clear.