T and I continue to work through the aftermath of the rupture. Tonight I did not feel as though I could sit too close to him. I can tell because when I am on the couch and facing the center of the picture, I am closer than when I am centered with the lamp. Tonight I faced the lamp.

My mother died 8 days before my youngest child was born. In the delivery room, right after giving birth I called my Dad and we cried together about how much she would have loved this little guy. In my memory it is a most precious moment. When my father died 2 years later I was devastated. It was a sudden death and I felt as though he had disappeared.

This past week was the anniversary of my Dad's death 12 years ago. It just bumped into the rupture and repair with T. And, I am so very amazed at the power of the unconscious and how I re-lived many facets of the loving experiences with my father along with the grief of his loss.

I even had a dream where I invited T to meet my youngest son and where I saw his arm. (I loved my Dad's arm.) I have become convinced that T was dead and had disappeared.

Tonight I was crying and he looked at me and said, "The only difference is I am not dead. I'm still here."

I looked at him and said, "Are you sure?" He said, I'm sure but you're not."

He's right. But I'm getting there.

Peace