#114 Progress

I think I turned a little corner this weekend. I was having a conversation with a friend that I hadn’t seen in a while and Eric came up. She didn’t know what had happened and I was able to fill her in. I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel like running away. I was ok discussing it and telling her what happened. It helped that she’s a nurse and used to medical details and the possibility of dying young. It’s still horrible and unfair and some days I still can’t believe it, but for one moment on Saturday it was just a part of my life. And that was ok.

I need to be able to talk about Eric, everything about Eric, without seizing up inside. I can’t have it be this big secret or an unmentionable topic. I don’t work that way. I’m a talker. And maybe it’s getting a little easier to talk about.

It’s not that I can accept it any better. It’s not that I don’t still miss him ferociously or don’t still wonder why him, why us? It’s just that it got a little bit easier to discuss.

This has been a fabulous forum for pouring out my feelings and memories and difficulties. And I know it will continue to be, but that doesn’t mean it has to be my only one. I find it easier to write about than to talk about. Giving voice to my thoughts seems to give them a power they don’t have on the page. It’s ironic as those spoken words are gone when the sound waves fade away, and these written ones will live forever. I am careful in my writing, there are certain words that should probably appear more than they do, words like died. Words that are too final to go next to Eric’s name.

I think my conversation this weekend was progress, but I know I have lot more to go.