(The Approaching Bus [source])
Alli's angelversary struck yesterday. For all who know the pain of an anniversary of a loved one's death, you'll get the visual. You see it coming, the pain it will create, but there's not much you can do about it, kind of like a speeding bus heading your way. You can brace yourself, try to dodge it, sleep all day, or whatever, but it will still come.
[Timpanogos--Escaping to the outdoors [Source])
Every year, we escape because the last place we want to be on the angelversary is home. Three years ago, we stayed in a cabin. Two years ago, we went to Craters of the Moon. Last year, we went to a bed and breakfast then tried (unsuccessfully) to hike up to Timpanogos Cave. That was depressing. This year, we just made a day trip of it to Lava Hot Springs. My girl spent the whole time wanting to go home, and we all were somewhat disappointed. At least we weren't home.
[The true face of the bus: this memory of a tiny coffin in a big hole.]
Of course, the emotions still caught up. It's the bus principle. One way or another, they always do. Last night, I shared pictures of her short life and broke down. My husband has had the depression bus strike today. It always catches up. But staying busy helped me survive the day, helped us both survive the day. And we got to make memories with those who remain. Should we just stay home and let the bus hit or keep up the day trips? In the end, whether things work out or not, I think it's worth it. These days create memories and bonding we wouldn't otherwise have. And our angels can join us, too. I highly recommend it if you can. It won't stop the bus, but it may just add a sense (perhaps false, but a sense, nonetheless) that you can control your grief. You may want to try it sometime.
