Eleven months ago tonight was the worst night of my life. Eleven months ago tomorrow morning my beloved Brian died.
I knew he was going to die soon, but there is something unbearably painful in switching from giving morphine to make living easier to giving morphine to make dying easier. That night I knew that the morphine was for managing his death and not his life. That knowledge ate me up alive.
Eleven months have passed and the sharp edges of my pain have smoothed somewhat, but not when it comes to certain memories - like this one. My pain tonight is not as bad as it was then, but it still hurts so much to remember and to process those memories.
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