Birthdays are truly just another day. I try to make Lou's day bright on her birthday, but I think we both feel like it's another day.
The year after my Star died, I celebrated every month. It was an important thing for me to do, and I know that now. But after that first year,
Every day is just another day. I don't celebrate the seasons as I once did. I don't plan for Christmas, and Easter the way I once did. I don't carefully plan and execute a beautiful altar for Dia de los Angelitos.
The days, and months, and years simply pass me by.
Perhaps this is just another extension of the depression I have been battling most of my life. Perhaps that is where I am again, now. It all just seems so overwhelming.
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