It's coming...I can feel it. The anniversary of my nephew's death. I don't want to go through that day, but I know in order to heal (eventually) I have to. He's on my mind a lot lately, my nephew - as those I care for that have passed on often are.
Last night after Alan went to bed I stayed up for a while. Every now and again (I don't know why...maybe it's because I'm on my period who knows) I listen to songs that I know are going to make me cry. And I don't mean boo hoo couple tears here and there, I mean full on bawl like a little bitch...cry. Last night was one of those times. I don't know how or what started it off but I do know it went from bad to worse. And to top it off...I was looking at old pictures I have on my computer.
At one point I started looking through pictures of my nephew Brad. Then I went for the mother of all sobfest songs as I'm looking at pictures of Brad, his sister, his Mom and Dad. If you have never listened to "The Perfect Fan" by Backstreet Boys (yes, you read that right...I said Backstreet Boys). Here's a little tip of advice. DON'T DO IT WHEN YOU ARE ALREADY EMOTIONAL AND LOOKING AT PICTURES OF A DEARLY DEPARTED ONE. LOL. I cried like I haven't cried in quite some time. Perhaps it was healing, and cathartic in some way. Perhaps since I'm already an emotional wreck, it only exacerbated the situation. I don't know. I do however feel a little bit better.
I'm thankful that I have a brief distraction the night the before the anniversary in the surprising form of John Taylor. Or maybe...it's not so surprising. Like many, Duran have been there when I needed them most. This is one of those times. I'm super nervous to finally meet John. I don't know that I'll actually remember to say anything, but I'm hoping my husband Alan prompts me (he's coming with me...I think) so I don't just stand there like some gawking idiot who says nothing. We'll see. Who knows maybe I'll be surprisingly cool meeting my idol, the man from many a teenage fantasy, and the man that I was going to marry had you asked me when I was 12 (...or 41 if I were single).
One Last Glimpse,