It occurred to me today that yesterday was June 4.
In the past, that day has marked a couple of things.
It was my parent's anniversary. They were married for nearly 25 years, splitting in 2001, following a lot of changes to my mom after a suicide attempt precipitated by the wrong dosage of anti-depressants.
It was devestating at the time, and some of the repurcusions have been hard. But I think nearly 10 years later, that in a lot of ways, my parents (who still hold each other in high esteem and talk regularly) are happier apart. My dad remarried and loves his wife and step-daughter and my mom has been free to pursue things she would not have done if still married to my dad.
June 4 also marks the due date of our first planned pregnancy - Chickadee. Had that worked out, I'd be busy with a one year old, and Gabriel would never have existed at all.
When we found out there was no viable embryo, I thought I understood pain. I cried and cried and railed at the injustice of it all.
Funny how subsequent events have turned that nearly to a pleasant memory. Not that it was pleasant or happy, not that it wasn't painful and hurtful. It's just impossible to expend any more sadness on that event, given how much is consumed by what followed.
I had forgotten, even.
An odd thing, life. What you remember and learn and take away. Odd how the experiences we have shape us into the people we are. I haven't thought about that lost little soul that I had so dearly loved and anticipated in months. I'm too busy thinking about that lost little person who I long for and love and miss everyday.
A perspective that perhaps I could have done without seeing. I had thought then that it was one of the worst things of my life, ranking up there above my mother's suicide attempt and my husband (then fiance)and his abortive suicide attempt. And perhaps, to that point, it had been.
It's just that it pales in comparison. Regrets are wasted on it now. Better to look ahead and cling to a shredded rag of hope, because the wasteland that marks the path I've already walked is desolate.