Michael reminded me that it has been a year since Meg died.
I left a comment on the 15th--I didn't know it was so close to a year when I went to visit. Something pulled me back there. Lots of us keep going back. To remind ourselves to remember ourselves...
to remind ourselves to remember our friends forward...
off the screen.
I don't know how long I can stay here as more Megs go. It's too much, really. It's too big out here. Loss ripples.
Remember when we hung on one another's every word here? Every ounce of every page of every one of us was precious. We wrote one another whole. We wrote ourselves free. Or we tried.
Or we died trying.