Bad Ju-Ju

by mantis-philes

Here it is, 2016. It’s not as if it’s the whole 60 days. Anticipation begins Memorial day. The first hurdle, June 3. The last, July 11. Not really a whole two months. But my life is no longer on linear time and June/July feel like a lifetime.

Unless you’ve put on my big sweaty shoes, and there would be no reason to do so, no, you would’t know.

2016. We would have been married 30 years. Early retirement would have been the conversation du jour. He’d have been 60. I would have worked a few more years and then a rollicking 24/7 us.

Instead, a life barricaded with guilt and anxiety and loss and history.

It’s not as if strides haven’t been made. Progress has indeed been charted. Milestones met. Moving ahead. Things and times, they are a-changing. Everything but me.

Taking a few moments last night on the deck, in the corner of my eye he came through the shaded side yard, and before my eye could even register, my heart knew. As I turned to greet, gone. But I knew. I know.

Bad Ju-Ju, made better.

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