My husband has pointed out to me lately that my blogs are incorporating more and more of our family life in them. This is not a criticism; he says he likes how the posts are sharing our family life and how we are reminded of Eric in so many ways both large and small. I suppose he is right.
This blog is meant, in part, to be a celebration of Eric’s life and as such should contain stories of his life. And it does. This blog is also meant to be a way for me to grieve and as such it should contain stories of my life. And it does.
I guess it’s natural, since I am the author, that more of me will end up in this blog than of him. It makes me really sad though to think this is happening because there are now a finite number of Eric stories in the world. His ability to be the protagonist has ended, and we can only recall what happened in the past. And I don’t even know all of the stories.
My story and that of my family is still continuing so I will go on reporting it and the ways in which we remember Eric. After all, that’s all I can do
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