I wish the world would get its shit together. I want the world to offer me quality volunteer activities and community service projects that get me out of the house and take up appropriate amounts of my time, making my life feel meaningful and purposeful. I wish the world would offer support groups of all kinds, from bereavement through depression and being middle-aged and feeling frumpy and unattractive, and coping with your hair in the humidity, and how to get your Beagle to stop eating everything you are eating.
I wish the world would stop work on the Purple Line, or just finish it already. It’s taken way too long. I can’t stand living in a construction zone. Also, I can’t stand the icky sticky heat of summer, and the bugs, and the thunderstorms. What else do I want to complain about? I hate all my clothes, I hate the way food tastes although I want to eat junk food.
I wish it were October. I wish it were cool out. Not Halloween, I don’t want a bunch of kids ringing the doorbell asking for candy. I just wish we were past this anniversary. I’d like to be past all this. I wish I were a little old lady, maybe with totally grey hair or white hair. I could be really eccentric. Will Max and I still live here? I suppose so. Maybe we’ll learn to play bridge. I don’t want to yell at him though. My grandparents yelled at each other a lot when they were playing bridge. I really can’t stand that.
I just wish I were over this. Probably I will never be over this. I had a child and that child died. Is it possible to recover? To ever be whole?
The First Year Without Sarah 