Yet the anniversary of a death, a rape, a fire, a miscarriage, a betrayal, a deep humiliation, a mutilation can year after year extrude its splinters, almost to the day, into the scar tissue of the well-annealed self, determined to obliterate , to go on without looking back.
Last April, I was driving when suddenly I was overcome with deep sadness and grief. It came out of the blue. One minute before, I had been singing along with the radio and enjoying the lovely spring colors. I couldn't figure out what was going on. Then I remembered.
It was the anniversary of the day my dog died. He was my first pet and I grieved for weeks when he passed away. I was a child when he passed. Odd that I should remember his yahrzeit and grive so profoundly after all these years.