She was not okay, and she didn't pretend to be. Each day, she missed him more and wanted him back more than anything she had ever longed for in her life. Love had always been the most important thing to her- his love, to be exact. She felt selfish for ignoring her kids and their kids. She loved them, she truly did. But they were just reminders of Bill. Everything was, especially the old photographs. The old, tear-stained photographs.
She knew she was torturing herself by living her life this way, but she couldn't help it. She felt as though she'd be betraying her dead husband if she moved on. Really, she didn't even want to move on in the first place, although everyone told her she needed to. She wasn't in denial. She knew that she needed help. She knew it was wrong and unhealthy to mourn this deeply every day for ten years without doing something about it...but she didn't want to. She wanted to remember all the times they had had together. She wanted to sit and think about him, even though it made her misery worse. She wanted to cry over old sepia photos and recall the memories they held. She had nothing else to do with her life. She was old and retired (she had been an English teacher for thirty years before she went out of work, after Bill died). Her moping around had essentially cut off all ties she had had with her friends and had put a great strain on the relationship she had with her children and grandchildren. She sometimes wondered if her grandchildren truly realized what was going on, and the gravity of the situation. None of them were very old; the oldest was a sixteen-year-old girl named Abba. Abba was wise for her age, so she assumed that Abba knew and understood it.
Abba was a lovely girl. She looked a great bit like her grandmother when she was the same age. Not only had similar looks been passed down from her mother's mother, but the love for literature and music had as well. Abba was in the marching band at her high school and tutored English for community service hours. The only thing, really, that displeased Abba's grandmother was the fact that Abba was not an avid churchgoer. Her granddaughter had openly denounced organized religion- something that had been a huge part of she and Bill's life. She was the only only old enough to remember her grandfather vividly, and that was something else that made her grandmother feel a connection to her.
She knew she was torturing herself by living her life this way, but she couldn't help it. She felt as though she'd be betraying her dead husband if she moved on. Really, she didn't even want to move on in the first place, although everyone told her she needed to. She wasn't in denial. She knew that she needed help. She knew it was wrong and unhealthy to mourn this deeply every day for ten years without doing something about it...but she didn't want to. She wanted to remember all the times they had had together. She wanted to sit and think about him, even though it made her misery worse. She wanted to cry over old sepia photos and recall the memories they held. She had nothing else to do with her life. She was old and retired (she had been an English teacher for thirty years before she went out of work, after Bill died). Her moping around had essentially cut off all ties she had had with her friends and had put a great strain on the relationship she had with her children and grandchildren. She sometimes wondered if her grandchildren truly realized what was going on, and the gravity of the situation. None of them were very old; the oldest was a sixteen-year-old girl named Abba. Abba was wise for her age, so she assumed that Abba knew and understood it.
Abba was a lovely girl. She looked a great bit like her grandmother when she was the same age. Not only had similar looks been passed down from her mother's mother, but the love for literature and music had as well. Abba was in the marching band at her high school and tutored English for community service hours. The only thing, really, that displeased Abba's grandmother was the fact that Abba was not an avid churchgoer. Her granddaughter had openly denounced organized religion- something that had been a huge part of she and Bill's life. She was the only only old enough to remember her grandfather vividly, and that was something else that made her grandmother feel a connection to her.
