I wonder if there's muscle memory with grief; the seasonal shift awakening the memories each spring.
I think a lot of my sister and her last week. It's a tough memory for me because she was suffering. There's nothing worse than watching someone you love suffer, and it's some cruel twist that allows those images to replay clearly in my head, especially this time of year.
I wonder when the other memories will take over, the good ones, letting this sad week of time, one that I surely won't forget, recede.
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