Amiss, Remiss, Dismiss

Today is the 6th tormentiversary of Ron's death. Hard to believe he's been gone that long from me, from family, from all who loved him. I am not sure of the weather that day, I think it was overcast with clouds leaking intermittent precipitation. What I am sure of is how hard I tried to redefine time so that I could hold on to him just a little longer. I wanted seconds to become like hours so that hours could become days.

Over the five days he spent in the hospital, when the hope of recovery was still alive, I sang to him (I like to think with him). RJ loved Bob Marley, especially "Is This Love." I'd pull up that song on my iPod, place an ear bud in each of our ears, and sing. The lyrics include the lines, "We'll be together with a roof right over our heads; We'll share the shelter of my single bed."  Those lyrics made me smile then and now. When Ron and I first met -- first fell in love -- we lived in my Grandview apartment and shared my single bed, literally a twin-sized bed, which was not a a lot of space when one of two people was 6' 3" in height! Before this calamity enveloped us, I used to tell him that he was my sunshine, my ray of light that made everything better when all else sucked. When we had to let go of hope, I sang to him in the operating room while they removed his life support and as his heart slowly stopped beating. The last song I quietly sang was "You are My Sunshine."

S.O.B.

My poison today was living as if nothing was amiss. Why? Because I was remiss -- I did not stop my day to note the hour six years ago when RJ slipped away from me. But, I am trying to grant myself grace and dismiss the guilt that assails me.

How I miss... him.