Every time A Bell Rings...

An angel gets his wings.
5 years. These big round numbers just get me every goddamn time. 5 years, and memories get faded and fuzzy, and there's no one to collaborate yer story 'cause Greg's dead (pass it on). The last week or so, I've cried easily and often....but I've also laughed maniacally, been deeply in love, and made ridiculous amounts of cookies. I might even watch old Clarence get his wings this year. Life does go on, and sometimes it fucking stings- but it's not a betrayal. This morning when some students were bugging me about Santa Claus, I told them this story:
"A lot of people believe a lot of different things, so it really comes down to making up your own mind what you believe. All I'm going to tell you is that when I was a kid, one year I woke up on Christmas day and there were muddy boot tracks coming out of the fireplace and snags of tissue paper on the grate. I've never lost my faith since; what I believe in is love."
They went back to nattering about the naughty/nice list, and I went back to tying ribbons and seriously consulting about the effect of green paint versus silver. I've got a long fucking way to get all Buddha on the mountaintop- I get pissed off and scared and resentful and melancholy- but Greg was right when he said nothing passes like time.
Sometimes I get scared, not just because Greg is getting fuzzy; his voice, his mannerisms, his post-it notes all over the back door. I get scared because nobody keeps the family record anymore. I have all his journals, and although I haven't been brave enough for more than the most casual perusal, at least I know the record's there. Who's keeping track now? And does it even matter? At least this blog is something. The handwritten mail I still send and receive is something. My brain is a sieve...but hey, it's something.
What I wish most is that the pain of remembering would fade, while the recollections stay crystal clear. For the love to get deeper and the ache to get duller. I dunno, it seems like things are maybe going that direction. A lot has changed in the last 5 years, but there's still love in my life. I still believe in love for what can't be seen, and what is recognized only in traces of early morning light......