My daughter just dropped me off. We had a wonderful, carefree day together whisking our tired but happy bodies through the Air and Space museum and marveling in the glee of us. There were, however and of course, a few times that memories of my recently-deceased girlfriend flitted across my mind. So much of my Washington, DC past is entangled with hers. Anyway, impulsively I wanted to share my girlfriend thoughts with my daughter but I pulled back. I thought bringing up my big girl’s godmother might spoil or taint the moment. So I took some time to let the memories soak into me then I shook them off and got back to being with my sweet-girl, checking out the life-sized rockets and flight simulators while dancing with the memories inside my head. You know what that’s like, right? The memories are always there, bubbling just below the skin, and you either flow with them or suppress them so you can A. not break down or B. be completely immersed in the moment. It’s a choice and it’s not always fun choosing where to be. But that’s life. That’s life post-loss. In the moment, in the memory, in the memory, back to the moment. Maybe that’s a sign of acceptance: the ability to be so clear-headed that you can choose whether to cry when a memory pops up or shelve it for later because what you’re doing is so compelling or involving that you don’t want to leave. Perhaps that’s what it means to really “take it easy.” To take the loss and the memories and place them where you want them, when you want them. Take it easy, ok?