Hurricane Irene, my aunt Irene - both, forces of nature. Strong, gusty, a little wet at times; definitely something to be reckoned with. Key message: Don't ignore me.
I still miss her a lot, still catch myself thinking I need to call her or send her an email to tell her about something, even though the other side of my brain knows there's no one at that number or email address any more. As with mom, I know that time will eventually help that sensation fade away. Until then, those thoughts still surprise me when they crop up.
I now find myself thinking/wondering when the phone call from Ann will be the one where she says, "He didn't make it this time." It seems like every time we start breathing normally after the most recent hospitalization, thinking/hoping that will be it for a while, he goes back in, sometimes for the same thing, sometimes for something new. In the end, he's doing well, considering he got the raw end of bad heart genes. (And by "bad heart," I only mean the machine part of it; his true heart is the biggest and sweetest one I know.)
As for Hurricane Irene, don't ignore her. Take precautions, my friends and family; take precautions.
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