A Year

What's a year? 365 days. The time it takes planet earth to chug a lap around the sun? A real measure, but still arbitrary in many ways.

George died on September 30th last year. And on September 30th this year, I didn't want to dwell on it.
I didn't want to recall in painful details, the hideous decision and even more hideous process of withdrawing life support. And just because the earth was sitting in the same position it was when in happened, does that matter? Does that mean you have to be contemplative? I decided no.

It's not that I don't think of George every day and the little things about him. The fact that he took his top off every night to go to sleep - summer, winter, camping - he was just that kind of guy. Even the shape of his fingernails is very clear to me - and I hope I can maintain that detail into old age. I just didn't feel more or less pained by his loss at the 365-day mark than I did at 364 or 366.

My sister-in-law Karen sent me this photo of all the cousins on Geoff's side. I love it. You can almost see the personalities of these kids as they are now, more than 10 years later.  It was so typical of George to be holding the baby - in this case, the youngest cousin at the time, Michael. (Yes, Sass was yet to be then. Karen has suggested we Photoshop her in!)

L-R: Back - Eliza, Eleanor, Jazzy, George & Michael, Timothy, James. Front - Stephanie, Claire, Jack.  2003

So to repeat the poignant text of my friend Annie from Paris, a year after Jazzy died - time goes quickly, times goes slowly.

How right she is.