Grieving at ten months

It seems that October and November were easier. I think it's because those months last year were months of hope and planning ahead. That was the period in which I repeated a mantra to everyone "all we have to do is get through these three treatments (chemo, radiation and surgery) then we'll have at least a year or two before we have to worry about cancer again".

December was a month of planning but with a less inspiring result in mind. Since the metastases had been discovered the medical folks said they couldn't project anything into the future. They couldn't tell if chemo would slow things down, they couldn't tell if Robin had 30 days, three months, a half a year. I guess the one thing was clear - they thought six months was beyond reasonable expectation.

These days I seem to have memories pop up more continuously. Typically they're images of places we were at, or occasionally things that we said. Often there doesn't seem to be a particular reason for things to be coming back up. Sometimes it's obvious. I've been to a couple of events near the local hospital with new friends. Coming and going from the local hockey arena we pass the oncology outpatient clinic. Thoughts go through my head, but I don't say anything. I think that my new friends wouldn't understand it if I started saying 'hey I used to go there with Robin'…