Memories often Hurt........................................................................December 2, 1014 When my beautiful son, Jeff died on December 11, 1992, I discovered that the pictures on the wall were great solace. I felt surrounded with his warmth, love and so many memories. They were still pictures and somehow they were the past, never forgotten but also, no longer painful. Recently Judi stumbled on old family movies. With much excitement she transferred those old movies onto a DVD and brought them to me, a wonderful gift. I want to share my reaction without seeming ungrateful, unaware of Judi’s good intentions. Everyone has his/her own take on life’s ups and downs. I hope that Judi understands mine. Live pictures of my lost husband, my borrowed son and my grandson-in-limbo suddenly entered my reality, the pain was intense, The difference between the flat stills and the moving pictures was, for me somewhat shattering. As memories that I savor every day, my men have a specific place in my heart, my day and my being. I have said that Erv and Jeff are residing in my heart and Matt is always in my prayers for his future. Their pictures hang on my wall and I have a word for each almost everyday. The home movies suddenly brought them out of hiding. There stood Jeff, tall and straight, there was Matt bubbling with the joy of living at age three, happy and here was Erv warm, loving engrossed with his grandson. I had accepted the deaths of Erv and Jeff, the missteps, unhappiness of Matt and suddenly there they were, out of place and haunting my night. There is a good probability that Matt will straighten out his life, learn a new reality. But Erv and Jeff will never be lively and enthusiastic about life again. I love them still, they dance in my dreams, but seeing them move around as they used to, to hear their voices as I did so often in the past was very unsettling. Yes, everyone is different.