Nearly Three Years and I Cannot Breathe
There are days when I don’t want to die or disappear. I just want, for a few hours, to stop missing someone. We are coming up on three years since I last heard my person’s voice. Three years since I held his hand, hugged him, kissed him. Three years since Keith was physically here with us. Even writing that takes my breath away. Three years sounds like such a long time. Somehow, it also feels impossibly short. I still remember his voice. I still know exactly what it felt like to hold his hand. And yet there is this growing stretch of time between the life we had together and the life I am living now. Sometimes that passage of time is devastating all by itself. Liam doesn’t talk about his dad very often. But in the quiet moments, I know he thinks about him. The other day I asked him if, someday, he planned to tell his own children about their grandpa in heaven. “Yes!” he answered immediately. There wasn’t even a second of hesitation. He didn’t want to talk about it beyond that, and I re...
