There are some anniversaries that are not on any calendar. They are buried deep in my memory. They rise up slowly like air bubbles escaping from a fish’s lips. One at a time they float to the transparent surface. First one, then two, then three float up into my conscious thoughts.
They say, “This is the time when it happened.”
I try to ignore these memories; they are rarely happy anniversaries. If they had been pleasant experiences I would never have needed to banish them to the bottom. More often than not they are anniversaries of injuries, hospitalizations and trauma.
This month marks the eighth anniversary of my hemorrhagic stroke. I don’t actually remember the specific date in August when the cerebral hemorrhage began.
A few days ago the anniversary bubbles began to float up to the surface. They said, “It has been eight years now.”
I look at each bubble and remember the healing that has taken place over those years. I take an assessment of the gains and losses and determine that a game has been played well. Recovery has won the match.