This entry is dated January 28. I wish I could feel something. If Paul were alive, he'd
be 33 today. Maybe I've lived through too many emotional anniversaries. Maybe I've finally
moved on. Maybe all of this "take charge of my life" stuff is really helping.
You don't, of course, "get over" the death of children. Anniversaries will
always bring about a pang. What would they be like if they were still alive? But it gets
better. Fact of life. It gets better. Whether you want it to or not.
Paul's birthday was always a Big Deal, not because it was Paul, but because it heralded
the start of the big Birthday Season. David has the next birthday--February 4--and I'll be
having these same thoughts then too. Maybe even moreso, because David has been gone
longer. He's permanently frozen at age 24. It's hard to believe we'd be celebrating his
30th birthday this year. I can't picture David at 30. I still see that youthful grin the last time I saw him, Mother's Day 1996.
But then I can't imagine my sister in her 50s. She would have turned 50 in 1997, but
she, too, like David, is permanently frozen at age 24.
Walt's sister's birthday is Feburary 11, mine is the 17th and Walt's is the 26th.
Paul's wife, Audra, has a birthday in February too and I'm ashamed to admit that they
weren't together long enough for me to have the date imbedded in my memory banks. (I do
remember it's February, though).
In times past we'd be planning our yearly AQ&D party
celebrating the birthdays of all of us. Now
that we don't dominate the birthday year any more, AQ&D seems to have fallen by the
A part of me wants to feel the emotion that I've felt in the past knowing that AQ&D
is changed forever. A part of me is glad that this year, finally, it's not a big emotional
Happy Birthday, Paul--wherever you are.