Within the last week or so, there have been a number of untimely deaths here in Seattle. Primarily from what's been on the news, people shot and killed for no good reason (not that I believe there are very many 'good' reasons to kill another human being). As I mentioned in my previous post, these types of incidents have hit me harder lately because I really know something of what their loved ones are going through. But the kicker happened Thursday night.
|Grandma Rose (and a dozing Grandpa David)|
Now my grandma Rose was 90 years old and had health issues, so 'unexpected' is a loose term. But on top of how I was feeling already, it was a tough blow to take. Then as the cherry on top of that shit sundae, the draft of my new revised will and power of attorney was waiting for me in the mail when I got home the next day. So I then got the pleasure of reading about all the stuff that'll happen when I die, and what arrangements will be in place if that happens while Rowan is still a child. Ugh.
The result was a sudden and very powerful resurgence of an interest in things connected to Aimee's death. I have no idea why that was the reaction to the past week's events, but it was. I re-read pages and pages of a scuba diving forum conversation that had gone on for months about Aimee's accident. I looked at the Facebook page and website of the Key Largo Scuba Shack (which has been closed since December 18). I even tried to find the name of the shop the owners had in The Bahamas, but I was unsuccessful (if anyone else knows it or finds it, please don't tell me - I actually DON'T want to know).
But as I reflect, this current period of sadness (dare I use the "D" word, depression?) actually has been going on since our anniversary April 29. I've just been going through a greater awareness of the huge hole in my life, and how permanent that hole really is. I keep finding myself paradoxically more drawn to reminders of Aimee and more pained when I stumble on them unexpectedly. I can't focus as well, my motivation to do much of anything is nonexistent, and I am having a damn hard time getting out of bed each day.
Yeah, I guess that does sound a bit like depression.
I don't really know what the point of this post is, I guess I'm just venting tonight.