There's a quote people throw around whenever they try to comfort you after losing a loved one.
"Time heals all wounds."
I'm a firm believer that time does not heal all wounds -- or any, for that matter.
Some people think my perspective is depressing. Clearly, they've never lost a loved one. They've never woken up with that gut feeling that something isn't right. They've never been denied the chance to give someone a proper goodbye. They've never had a parent come into their room to break the news to them, all while failing to keep their composure. They've never had to look at an urn knowing that their loved one's ashes are inside, or had their eyes dart away from an open casket because it's too painful to look at their loved one's lifeless body.
No, time just teaches you how to deal with the pain that you'll carry with you for the rest of your life. Time helps you keep your composure when someone shares a memory of your loved one. It helps you keep your legs from buckling as you walk towards their headstone. It makes the second round of holidays without them feel less foreign.
No matter how much time has passed, January 11 will always suck. I feel the same pain I did seven years ago. I relive that exact day over and over again. I will never experience a "new" January 11. On this day, it is 2009 again, and I've lost my grandfather to a heart attack.
If anything, time sometimes rips the wound open a little bit more. Watching time pass is a constant reminder that your loved one is no longer with you. My grandfather never saw me in my first play, wasn't there when I started an organization to raise money for cancer research, and didn't get to see me graduate. He will never get to watch me graduate from college, get my first teaching job, get married, and create a family of my own.
With time, you develop strength to sew the wound back together, put on a happy face, and live the life your loved one would've wanted for you. But the wound will never completely heal.
I love and miss you, Pepere. This one's for you.
