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  • Writer's pictureRachelle Jervis

Day 1262

Years ago, the site of ambulance lights would inspire me to say a secret silent prayer for the patient's health. When Constance was diagnosed with autism, after innumerable prayers for her well-being, I gave up praying for anyone's health.

Now ambulances take me back to Constance and my ride from one hospital to another the day she died. On more than one occasion I’ve burst into tears, my heart racing, my vision blurring. Last week I had to take an exit off the interstate to avoid two ambulances as they moved at the speed of the gridlock despite their sirens.

The grief doesn’t get easier. It still physically and emotionally hurts.

I’m isolated in a home where no one else knew her. Now as I pet my puppy, my secret thoughts are of Constance.

Today would be Constance’s birthday. We’d have a party, make a fuss, and she would enjoy herself. Today I will donate to charities in her memory, cry, and reminisce.


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