This is a Really Real Widow Post.
Sometimes the smallest things take me back. Driving home on mobility today the driver commented on a street near my house that was incredibly steep. I responded it was no fun to walk it.
Suddenly I could just barely see, over on the sidewalk, Parker walking up the hill beside me, holding my hand, on our way home from the mall.
Lost in a daydream I barely remember finishing my conversation with the driver.
These flashbacks are treasured gifts. Moments in time that I get to relive, remembering Parker, still breathing, beside me.
I never know when they will show up, I can’t will them into existence. Most of the images I see in my head are from the few pictures we took over the years, or from that final moment that I saw her, which is forever etched in my mind.
When she shows up in my dreams, she’s often just outside of the frame, I know she’s there but I can’t see her, can’t touch her, often can’t even quite hear her. I can no longer recall her voice at will.
But sometimes I get this rare gift, and I can barely see, Parker walking up the hill beside me, holding my hand, on our way home from the mall.