Dusting off an old friend

I'm not sure why I'm here typing this out right now. Oh, I've contemplated time and again about getting back into the swing of things blogging, but I find that without something of purpose to write about that my life is really no different than any other. I by no means mean to say that if I have a purpose to write about that it makes my life different/better... it just means that I have something to write about I suppose... and so this will go.

I suspect that, by now, the few regulars that used to visit have stopped coming over to see what (if anything) I've written. Why then am I writing at all you ask? (HA! I'm writing as if someone else is actually reading this...) 'Tis a fair question indeed and for the answer, I will draw upon a favorite answer of mine from my youth... I don't know. 

I feel like this will be a Seinfeld post... a post about nothing. They managed a 9 season sitcom... I'm just hoping to make to the end of this blog post… Of course I could just make this the end and say, “There, I made it!”

The last posting here is about Julie and to that end she is doing well. Nothing much has happened since that July posting. I mean the usual stuff happens... food spills, dishes get dirtied, CLOTHES… clothes get dirtied… nothing to write about and certainly nothing worth reading about. Since that posting, we've celebrated 6 birthdays with one coming in May and another today.

Yes, today is Emmah’s… her 17th.

Having just passed the three year mark of her passing, I guess I wanted to say something, but there’s nothing to be said other than reiteration. This is where the train consistently derails. I don’t want to drive anyone reading (if any) away with a steady stream of I miss Emmah. I don’t find it to be an odd position that I miss Emmah, just that I don’t think that I need to be telling everyone that I do, nor so often at that.

So where does that leave me? It leaves me risking redundancy. You can stop now if you like… you've been warned.

So February 10th has come and gone and with it marked three years. I don't remember what it was like being 45 let alone 41 when it all began... I am lucky to remember 10 minutes ago, but I find myself wondering where 6+ years have gone. The four birthdays while she was in treatment and the three since then... the lost years!

It would be hard for me to not mention Emmah in some way but I only have the past to draw upon and I realize at some level that’s been the crux of the creative problem for me… trying to find what I perceive to be a balance, and really, I/we are out of balance. I expect that we will never regain that balance thus ceaselessly listing.

Maybe it's a justification to talk about it, or to vent, in any event I just can't go around talking ad nauseam about it. I'm waiting for a fog to lift that isn't going to lift. Life as I knew it ceased to exist the day we found out and since then it's been all wrong. 

Hitting the end of the road created a loss of control. That loss became a suffocation snatching our breath leaving us gasping asthmatics and our thoughts eroding the spirit of our souls. Time does NOT heal; I miss her just as much today as ever, it only provides the opportunity to figure out how to cope and nothing more! It is the life of what could have been that leaves me in ruins.

To say we miss her is… well… silly and grossly understated. There are no words that distantly begin to describe or explain the emptiness that is left behind; we feel it every single day. It builds starting with the holidays and peaks at this time of the year. It bullies itself to the forefront and becomes the silent elephant in the room casting its shadow over everything… effectively inhibiting the joviality of me writing. So I hope you bear with me a little longer as I lumber on because her absence affects everything.

Being left to speculate on how things would be if Emmah was still here with us is somewhat of a pointless endeavor. Yet in spite of that pointlessness, we still find ourselves playing that game from time to time… especially when we see the successes of her friends. She would be finishing up her junior year. It’s hard to imagine her driving and all the independence that goes along with it. To go beyond where she might be current day seems all the more reason to not speculate because it is a speculation of a speculation. It’s like putting two facing mirrors across from each other in that it’s an ad infinitum distortion of reality.

...And it's only been three years.

Until I am where you are, I will have to say it from here,

Happy Birthday Emmah...I miss you