Close to another Death

[close call-source]

Even as my baby's angelversary looms in a very few days, my dear brother came close to death.  He darted through a dark, apparently clear road in Hollywood to find a restroom and was slammed into by a car.  The officials told him he was lucky.  Almost always, any car-on-pedestrian accident like that in that area results in death.  His step-kids watched the accident and will probably need therapy.  His natural kids and the rest of us could only stand by helplessly as we heard second- and third-hand.  Since his kids had just lost their mom a couple of years ago, I can only imagine how their hearts clenched within them when they heard their dad had been hit by a car and that he was in the hospital with a head and leg injury. Especially the head part.  Too many head injuries don't end well.  

[The Bionic Man in pieces-Source]

After the rest of us heard via FaceBook, Leo's natural children all chatted with him for four hours on a conference call.  I know it soothed their immediate fears of loss to hear him talking and joking with them through the night.  We even heard back from him after the surgery on his leg and his torso.  He's now the bionic man, as his kids joked.  But I'm sure it haunts us all to think how close we came to another tragedy. 

[Cherish the love-source]

Which all brings me back to Tuesday, that upcoming wall of pain.  I'd forgotten that my buddy's husband died just two days before Alli's angelversary (leaving behind her and their two kids), but she reminded me again today with her FaceBook posts celebrating his life.  It's just a rough time for us and for her. But all of these factors, my brother's brush with mortality, my friend's loss, and my own, remind me to cherish the times we have with friends and family.  To be grateful for the loved ones I've been given. To not take for granted a single moment. Also, that late June is just not a safe time to go anywhere or do anything. Kidding about that last part.  But I am truly grateful for the time I have with those I can hold today. 

The Angelversary Approaches

[Count down to death date-source]

We're already setting up plans to do something for my angel's deathdate.  We never like to be home for it.  It tends to pass slightly less painfully when we're anywhere but home.  Last year, we went to Yellowstone.  In years past, we've gone to Craters of the Moon, Lava Hot Springs (with a friend who has since passed away), and just about anywhere else we could think of.  Last year, I was afraid we'd have to skip travel due to the pandemic, and it was depressing.  This year, it's just depressing that the date is coming at all. 

[source]

I used to like June.  It was the beginning of freedom for the kids for summer.  I'd have more time than the rest of the year when I was working all day, every day.  It wasn't yet the hottest time of the year, still technically spring for most of it.  But now, it feels like the whole month has a pall over it, like every day of it marches us closer to the worst day of the year.  

[There should be more color here-source]

This year, we're going up the canyon to do some six-wheeling, zip-lining, and go-kart driving.  It all sounds like fun.  Or would, if it didn't come with that date.  Maybe if we have enough fun, it won't hurt so much.  But if the day passes easily and without a lot of pain, I feel guilty, like I'm not missing her enough.  That seems to be a common problem for people in mourning, that feeling good in the face of days like this doesn't come without a price tag.  Can't we just skip June 29th?