A birthday
I wrote this a few days ago and am just getting around to posting it. Grief is strange how it can hit you unexpectedly and also be kind of predictable, too. I knew Alisa's birthday would be hard. All week I've been obsessed with her--everything reminds me of her. Every song on the radio seems to be about her, everything she ever gave me (which is a lot!) screams out to me and no matter what the weather is, it reminds me of times spent together. What is my deal?! One snowy morning last week, I was driving along and Coldplay's Paradise came on. It took me back to a Sunday four years ago. Alisa had just found out that her cancer was stage IV. It was in her bones and liver and she was starting to have pain. She called me as I was getting ready for church and said, "Do you want to skip church and drive up to Paradise with me today?" (Paradise is the small town where we spent out childhood.) Of course I said "yes," because suddenly t...