I've been very conscious that it's been a year this month since Remington's cancer diagnosis. It's hard to believe. I realize, in rereading my dog_diary entries, that the details are becoming fuzzy. But the emotions are still nearly as fresh as the days they were formed--feeling that my life had collapsed around me, wishing it were a nightmare I'd wake up from.
I was sorting through my Visa bills from last winter, which for some reason I never reconciled with the statements (gee--subconscious mind games?), and it was bad enough having receipt after receipt after receipt, often 2 or 3 a week, with the cancer clinic's name or the emergency clinic name--but then they stopped abruptly after March 8, and that's almost as jarring now as it was then.
And I've been finding that it's just as hard this month to find words for what I'm feeling as it was right after Rem died.