I do remember their birthdays, at least; I would have remembered once my brain was firing.
But he remembers the days they died. I'm glad I don't.
But he remembers the days they died. I'm glad I don't.
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Time doesn't flow that way for me. Mostly it flows right past me and I don't even notice.
But yeah, grief comes in cycles, on its own timeline. It's quite the bitch, that way.