Maybe because of the intensity of the activities in Washington, recuperating from it, and writing about it all, I have been sufficiently engaged on something meaningful to me, that I didn’t go wondering, visiting the sadness of Andrew’s death, long enough to become drenched in sorrow.
Then yesterday, without warning the flood gates opened and I cried all day.
It doesn’t take much, something someone says, the whiff of a memory floating by, an image, a sound, a smell; and suddenly I am in pieces, again.
And then I get scared. I ask myself how I can ever trust those moments when I can look at a picture of Andrew and smile. I wonder how I can ever go forward and not backward.
The sun is shining, it is going to be another warm day today. No difference really from other days when young Florentina and Andrew (Robert wasn’t born yet), might decide to go outside and make an umbrella house… No difference other than years have passed….and Andrew….. My Fallen Knight…. I have to go now, my memories are calling me.