I took a ride this morning. I took a ride out towards the country. It was a nice ride. Peaceful, tearful, sunny, sad, but nice. As I was heading back to town on a long stretch of country road, my thoughts and my memories, as always, played in my mind. Rotating feelings, flashbacks, years, and milestones stuck in a labyrinth – nowhere for them to go. Not that I want them gone, but settled. Tucked away momentarily until I need them again. Though history, these things are fresh; real-time. Like the country road I traveled home. The wheels on my car were freshly turning; real-time. But everything I passed – drawing me closer to my destination; history. And yet, I was stuck in time as if my car were at a standstill and the scenery just kept passing by. Like those old cheesy movies before advanced technology. Getting closer and closer and all the history and current scenery fresh as can be. My time stands still, and as long as I breathe, it forever will. Physically I move forward. That is it. I’ve often referenced this journey that I am on to the movie Groundhog Day. In my version, however, there is no “getting it right” to get out of this repetitive freshness. It is imprinted in my mind like a branding. I am the owner of this still time .. branded for the rest of my days.
Much love to you all<3
~Mother of Logan and Morgan
Daly Chronicles 
I too refer to my days after my son suicided as Groundhog Days because the replays are consistently cruel.. the looping, endless list of memories good and bad, it’s all exhausting. And tomorrow, the same thing deja vue all over again
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