My gramma was born on December 11th, and since her death, for a very, very significant reason known to myself and a few people, that day has been the hardest day for me to deal with. Every year since 2001, I've struggled with my grief. I couldn't call her and cheerfully wish her a happy birthday, and hear her voice and her laugh. Even now, I tear up thinking about it.
Tonight, just when I thought I had given up the ghost finally, it became clear that I will always have a whole in my heart on that day. I had hoped that it would hurt less with each passing year, but I suppose, given the circumstances, it never really goes away.
To Christine, my namesake...
...Wish you were here.
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