I woke up this morning feeling a little off; I’ve been sick the last three days and my back decided to chime in on the fun, so initially I thought that was it. But after convincing Max to get off of me and sitting up, I realized that wasn’t it. Physically, I felt better. My back still hurt, but that wasn’t it.
It took me a few minutes to come to grips that the feeling didn’t have anything to do with whatever minor bug has been making me feel like crap since the day after Christmas, and it had nothing to do with the pain radiating from my back.
It was sadness, just sadness.
And with that came the cold slap that today marks the tenth anniversary since the wonderful Moe Brennan passed away. I still miss her, and I’m still angry that she died, because she didn’t have to. Her husband should not be making his way through life without her, and the world is still a little dimmer without her.
Moe used to sign off on message boards and email with “Half Full, Half M.T.” But she was never half of anything. She was All That, and then some.
I don’t think I’ll ever not miss her. And I don’t think I’ll ever be not angry about how she died. I don’t think I’ll ever not be at least a little sad on this day every year.
But I’ll also suck it up and shake it off by tomorrow, because as formidable as she was, I’m pretty sure she’d find a way to kick my ass even now.