Each year, with regularity, hurricane season arrives. There are many storms that pop up - some stay small and lose steam before they hit our coast. Others threaten, but then fizzle out. A few hit with enough force as to leave major damage in their wake.
This is my hurricane season. The clouds have gathered, rains have begun to fall, storms are building as I head towards September 17th. I look out on the horizon from my own personal lighthouse, wondering which waves might knock me on my ass. Having survived the storms before, I begin to have fears. Things like "Did he know how much I loved him? REALLY KNOW?" I'll be reminded by someone of something Jim said or did, and I panic - "I forgot that. Oh my god, I FORGOT THAT! What else am I forgetting? Am I forgetting him? All I have left are those memories, I can't lose them!"
I know that the intensity of my emotions will ebb like the cycle of the storm. The sun will come out for a while. I'll be able to catch my breath, and prepare for the next one. It's just that during hurricane season, the storms tend to pile one on top of the other, with very little clear sailing weather in between. The crying season has begun.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Friday, August 07, 2009
RIT
Today I took my oldest to RIT. They run a College & Careers program for high school seniors who are interested in the majors they offer. Students get to spend the night in the residence halls, eat at Gracie's (the dining hall), experience a night of on-campus activities, and then go to four break-out sessions where you learn about your choice of four majors or areas of study.
I went on the campus tour with Kirsten. Mainly because she wasn't ready for me to leave her, but also out of curiosity. It's been 22 years since I graduated from RIT and 18 since Jim did. Things were the same, yet very different. As we walked around, I was reminded of my time there and Jim's. We walked right past the spot where this photo was taken. It's one of my favorite photos of Jim and me. I was pregnant with Kirsten and he couldn't resist making fun of my rather large belly. Today I was back at that spot with Kirsten, but no Jim.
I so wanted to call him and tell him how the campus is now. Reminisce about our time there. The gray hairs he gave mom & dad. How he went on co-op, thought "Damn, there's money in this packaging science stuff.", came back and buckled down. I want to laugh with him again. To tease him. To be teased.
Mom came across campus and showed me where the brick I bought in his memory had been placed on the Quarter-Mile. It's nice, but it doesn't make the missing him go away.
I went on the campus tour with Kirsten. Mainly because she wasn't ready for me to leave her, but also out of curiosity. It's been 22 years since I graduated from RIT and 18 since Jim did. Things were the same, yet very different. As we walked around, I was reminded of my time there and Jim's. We walked right past the spot where this photo was taken. It's one of my favorite photos of Jim and me. I was pregnant with Kirsten and he couldn't resist making fun of my rather large belly. Today I was back at that spot with Kirsten, but no Jim.
I so wanted to call him and tell him how the campus is now. Reminisce about our time there. The gray hairs he gave mom & dad. How he went on co-op, thought "Damn, there's money in this packaging science stuff.", came back and buckled down. I want to laugh with him again. To tease him. To be teased.
Mom came across campus and showed me where the brick I bought in his memory had been placed on the Quarter-Mile. It's nice, but it doesn't make the missing him go away.
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