My step-sister Robin’s birthday provided me with an opportunity to visit her and her children.
On the way to Michigan for her celebratory lunch, I thought about memories I had with Constance and her step-cousins. I picked through them like a crow picking through a dumpster.
The time they went to the Kohl Children’s Museum together, that trip ended with Holly getting sick from the flu. Last year, they all swam together in their Lola and Papa’s pool. They floated, they flopped, and they splashed. They were happy children at play. The images stuck in the projector of my mind—not advancing, not progressing, and not moving forward.
When I arrived, we ate and caught up. The kids were so sweet and adorable that I didn’t want lunch to end so I took them out for dessert afterward. It’s nice to be in a place in my grief where I can cry for Constance in the morning and still pull myself together and enjoy the company of her step-cousins. I don’t know how I got here, but it’s a better place to be.