This is a Really Real Widow Post.
Parker tripped off a step.
She was taking Siah out for a walk, something that fell on her shoulders far more often than mine, and Siah went the wrong way around the porch rail. Parker lost her footing and tripped off the edge of the porch.
She broke the tip of her bone, in a non weight bearing area that normally causes some pain but doesn’t even keep people off of their feet. Most people don’t even realize they broke it.
But hers never healed and 3 years ago today she went into surgery to have it removed and have some ligaments and tendons moved around so everything would heal properly.
I took some pictures and a video of her that day in the pre-surgery room.
She hated me taking her picture.
I’m kinda glad she did because it allowed me to get “the Parker look” on video.
She was still wearing the boot from surgery the day she died.
These next few weeks are a series of memories leading up to the day she died. These next few weeks are the final moments. The tension, the struggle. Things just weren’t right and I didn’t see it.
But it wasn’t my job to.
I can’t believe it’s been a full three years.
But I can’t believe it’s only been three years.
Time is a dichotomy.
I’ve felt this grief building in my gut since the beginning of the month, I knew it was coming.
But I’m not sad right now. I’m grieving for sure, but it’s not the gut punching sadness.
It’s hard to explain.
I miss her. I miss who she was and who she would be now.
I miss the Parker look when I would do something supremely unhelpful to the situation.
But I’m not sad. This isn’t that kind of grief.
I’m at peace with where life is right now.
But I also know that may change over the coming weeks as it gets closer to June 8th.
I hope she’s at peace where ever she is.
I don’t have a specific believe in an afterlife, but I don’t have a non-belief either. I know she’s somewhere even if it’s just the ashes in a box. She still exists either as matter or a soul, somewhere.
I hope she’s at peace, where ever that is.
She spent too much of her life not at peace.
One little piece of bone.
That’s all she broke.
2 thoughts on “One Little Piece of Bone”
She does still exist, within these words and memories and I thank you for sharing these parts of her with us ❤ Sending love xx
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Thank you for this, it’s a beautiful way of looking at her continued existence.