Bret’s “angelversary” snuck up on me this year.
At first, that shocked me. But then I realized that it has been nearly a decade, so maybe I shouldn’t be quite so shocked after all.
A lot of time has passed, which has helped confirm for me that, in fact, time does truly heal all wounds.
I’m not saying that I am now or will ever be fully healed from him, so violently removing himself from the mortal realm. I am saying, though, that the wound is a lot less painful now.
Like all scars, there are still areas that are more tender and sensitive. But there are also numb spots, too.
And I am okay with that.
The numbness means the pain is gone, and I am so glad it is.
February 11, 2018, was the most painful day of my life, and I never want to feel that again.
Death is a part of life, so I know that I will experience grief again. I have already experienced new grief since he’s been gone.
But that searing, vicious, twisting pain I felt for months following his death is diminished now.
I can face his death date without nervousness or apprehension; I didn’t even realize it was upon me this year.
After eight years, I am a new person with new memories. Bret is still in my memories, of course. It’s not like I’ll ever forget him. He’s just stored safely away, in a deeper place in my heart now.
It’s a place that doesn’t hurt so much when I access it. And after all this time, I don’t always need to access it.
I had prayed he’d found peace, immediately after he left us.
It just took me a little longer to find mine.
In loving memory ~ Bret Aaron Munk
11/10/1970 – 2/11/2018
Image via ChatGPT


