The things we don't get over

 I am still reeling from the loss of JFM on Wednesday. He was as close to being Auntie Mame as most of us are ever going to encounter in this lifetime. When he lived, by God, he LIVED and threw 100% into it. How can he be gone? It should be impossible, a literal physical impossibility for someone like that to be gone. 

The world is so much less flamboyant and colorful, it's hard to recognize it. 

This isn't the kind of loss that hits you just once. No, I already know it's going to hit over and over again, from every angle, from angles I can't even imagine. Every time I hear a song he did in one of his concerts. Every time I see a link to something with a Phoenix in it and want to send it to him. Every time the Misfit Toys gather. Every time I encounter cuccidati (Italian cookies he proudly made every Christmas). Everybody got one. I ate mine last December, and said "to heck with my blood sugar" for just that one day. Sometimes, you have to LIVE.

He did just as he said he would, though. He fought that cancer until it became impossible to fight anymore. I'm so glad that he spent the majority of the past two years (since diagnosis) in remission. He got to squeeze in a few more trips and events during the timespan when he was well enough to enjoy them. 

When you've known someone for over 50 years, there are so many memories to think about. They're all rushing back at once now. It seems unreal that the person who's front and center of all those memories isn't here anymore. It's so unlike him to be not-here. 

Some losses, you don't get over. You learn to live within the parameters of the new normal, but that's not the same as getting over the loss. The new normal can go kick rocks, frankly. It's going to take a lifetime of getting used to it.