After the scream

It's been two weeks since the visit to Deb's grave. I think I'm ready to say there has been acceptance.

I tried talking to her once or twice, but she's not answering. I know she can hear me, but she and I know it's time to go beyond that kind of communication. She speaks to me through feelings and memories, not with her presence.

We continue to have a relationship, and there's no breaking that up. But I'm still here, and I have things to do, people to see and odd bits of poetry to write. And she knows it, so she's let me know it's time to go on. I'll see her on up the road.

I'll still write here. There are still stories to tell about Deb and me. But I'll be doing it less out of a sense of obligation than for pleasure. Thinking about her doesn't make me cry anymore. She never did anything that caused me pain while she was here, and that will always be true.

Thanks, Sweetie.