8 years , I guess is the amount of time until everyone thinks you should be fine.

October 27th, 2016 was 8 years since Loughlin died. For me, it will always be one of those days, but I guess for the rest of the world he has been put on the back burner. The phone calls were 0. Even Harlen wanted to treat it as just another day in paradise. I tried to remind people with a post on Loughlin's page on Facebook, but it felt shallow and like I was trying too hard.

Did you know me before I lost Loughlin? I am nothing like I was, or maybe I am exactly like I was before. I don't remember what I was like. If I was a better person to some, I was a worse person to others. It is relative.

You might have forgot my son, but I haven't. You see part of my heart will be forever dead, black, empty. My soul is crying out, yet no one is listening. I have sang my song of misery for too long. I have used all of the empathy allowed in this world. I should sink into the darkness of the water where you do not have to acknowledge my pain anymore, but that wouldn't be me. Why do you feel you don't have to be a little uncomfortable around me twice a year when I am in agony every single day? You run. You hide. You ignore, but I am like that smell you can't get out of your freezer. I will always be here to remind you.

Today is Halloween. It used to be our family's favorite. We used to dress up together. It used to be so much fun, but now all I remember is the wreck and being in a hospital and someone taking my kids trick-or-treating for me. WOW 8 years might be enough for everyone else but it isn't even close for me.