Nine years ago, we stood hand-in-hand wondering…
You have no idea how hard it is. Not a clue what it will be like. But you’re pretty sure that it’s going to suck for at least a while.
Back when my stepdad was in cancer treatment, I remember Tom trying to explain the magnitude of a significant loss. By 45 years old, he had already experienced the loss of both his parents and a child. It all had a cumulative impact on his life. Still, I could not fully appreciate it’s unpredictable, sometimes crippling effect.
Then my stepdad died. I had a taste of it. No fun. Yet I could predict the tough days before their arrival. Birthdays, Holidays, Anniversaries, and a few random days here and there.
But when Tom died, there was no real pattern. A song, a smell, a red truck…. all sorts of stuff would pick at the wound, leaving me raw and vulnerable.
As for the anniversaries, I’ve given up on it getting easier. It’s just different. Each year, there’s something different to experience or process. I take the day off, schedule a massage, and give myself space to just be.
Of course, we try to honor him with a dinner together or what ever. This year, I put the dinner on the boys’ calendar a month ahead of time. Still, BoBo had to work on the day I’d picked. I moved it to Saturday. Something else came up. I felt a little anger surfacing for I’d set aside time to be there for the kids — yet they didn’t seem to need me. But I needed them! How could they not know this?
I was about ready to go to bed (at 9:30pm), when YaYa returned home. He wanted to see the slideshow from Tom’s memorial, and look at pictures. BoBo soon joined in. And we all ate pork rinds which YaYa brought home (because Tom liked them). It was nearly 11pm by the time my head hit my pillow.
It’s a good thing I don’t have to work. My body feels beat up and I’m just plain tired.