Today is the second anniversary of Gordy’s death from cancer. I have to be honest – and I feel a certain sense of betrayal to say this – but the grieving does get easier over time. I think I worried that if it ever quit being REALLY hard to think about Gordy, that I was forgetting him, or dishonoring his memory, or that maybe I didn’t love him as much as I thought I did.
But none of this is true. Over time the grief changes, and warm memories come out of nowhere – like when you walk into someone’s home and smell the burning wood and hear the crackle of the fire in their fire place, and you think of every fire you’ve ever sat next to in Gordy’s presence. Only, experiencing these memories no longer overwhelms you with grief, but brings a slight upward bend to the corners of your mouth as you think fondly of the Good Ole Days.