The day before Thanksgiving is a busy day.
I’ve done most of the shopping, and, to be honest I had fun doing it with my friend Elizabeth, yesterday.
Being with her, laughing as we do when we are together, helped me not think about the fact that this would already be our second Thanksgiving without Andrew.
But in the quiet moments between chatting, while choosing fresh bunches of Rosemary, Sage and Thyme, a conversation I had with Andrew about the difference between fresh and dried herbs, played in my head.
The memories and the present, a constant yo-yo. The assault, the retreat, what does that do to the psyche and to the body?
Not that I can change it, but I am curious to know what this constant raging emotional battle does to me and to all the other survivors.
I also know that while tomorrow I will have the Grace of being with friends for the Thanksgiving meal, I know that the numbers of suicide survivors will continue to increase.
I know that between now and tomorrow so many more lives will be virtually destroyed.
So, while I am grateful to have survived so far with my family, and to still have the ability to laugh, I can’t help but be sad for those whose days, hours and minutes are numbered.
I would ask everyone who reads my blog, to please spend a few moments praying for those unknown but wounded men and women whose lives will explode while others sit down to celebrate.
With love and prayers,
Esmeralda, Andrew’s Mummy