It's that day again, the anniversary of that horrible day when Henry died. And, just as we've done every year since then, we will be going to the bridge - with flowers and pictures this time around. L's sister and her husband will meet us again, we'll tie flowers to the rail, take a picture or two and, in my case, marvel again at how Henry could have had enough courage to do what he did (because, believe me, when you stand at that rail and look down, it's a long, long way down and I, for one, think it takes courage to make that move.). And wonder yet again why he did what he did.
I had a message from a friend on Facebook that made me cry already today and I'm not much of a crier. Nice words about the things I've done over the years, the education, the attempts to make people aware and it feels that maybe it was the right thing to do.
I've been struggling the last few weeks trying to decide how to find the right balance between honoring Henry's memory and not overdoing it. What's right? What's too much? I still don't know. This year, there are no slide shows, no lengthy posts (except for this one). Doesn't mean I don't still miss him, that I don't still wonder and that I don't still have many, many questions.
Miss you so much, Henry. ♥Mum♥
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