If I could sleep through September

Dear Sis:

Brad and I were driving around the countryside Tuesday night as we do every year in the fall, trying to get pictures for the Gazette's upcoming Hunting Edition. As we drove, I heard a song that must have been written just for me.

It wasn't vanity -- not really, the words described the way I have felt for the last eight years. The song is performed by Green Day, an alternative rock band (can you imagine, me listening to alternative rock!?):

"Summer has come and passed,

the innocent can never last.

Wake me up when September ends.

Like my father's come to pass,

seven years has gone so fast.

... Here comes the rain again,

falling from the stars.

Drenched in my pain again,

becoming who we are.

As my memory rests,

but never forgets what I lost.

Wake me up when September ends."

I've always said it would be easier if I could just fall asleep the last day of August and stay in bed till October.

Every day is a reminder of you. Not that I really need to be reminded of you -- you are a part of me every moment of every day. But in September the memories become as painful as a dull knife plunging into my soul.

It seems impossible, but it was eight years yesterday since we said our goodbyes. That's when I made my last promise to you.

A lot has changed since then. I married a wonderful man with a wonderful sense of humor, who is responsible, caring and loving. I met him a month after we lost you to breast cancer. He has been my rock since then.

Shane has been in the Coast Guard for nearly six years and Jeremy is preparing his application for the Army Reserve.

I'm so proud of both of them, as I know you would be.

Shane is in Alexandria, Va. I talked to him Tuesday night and he said he planned to spend your day walking around the D.C. area and reminiscing with his new girlfriend. He thought you would like that.

Mom and Dad invited me to go with them to visit you in Cambridge on Wednesday. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to go. I know you're not there. You are here with me -- in my heart, in my memories.

My dreams have been filled with you lately. Sometimes it's the memory of your ordeal. Sometimes I am so angry with you and with God that I spend my nights raging against whoever happens to be responsible and my days fighting against whoever happens to be around. I don't get much rest on those nights.

But most of the time, you are there as my counsel, my muse, my confidante.

You guide me now as you did back then -- listening as I divulge my deepest, darkest secrets, and quietly allowing me to work out my own problems, advising me only when you know that I am headed in the wrong direction.

I know in my head that those opportunities to be with you are a product of my imagination. But in my heart I like to believe that it really is you, taking me by the hand and leading me through life's tumultuous pathways.

Just so you know, I have kept that promise I made to you. I never did run away and join the circus. It was tempting, mostly when times got really tough, but the support I've found from my family and friends has kept my feet firmly planted and for the most part I've spent the last eight years being happy.

Except in September. It would be better if I could sleep through September.

In Loving Memory

Linda Sue Banzhaf Thompson

June 11, 1959 - September 28, 1997