Suddenly, I'm crying. "Jesus, is my period coming?" I question myself as I sit Indian-style on my carpeted floor (it isn't, by the way). I wipe away my tears and continue tasking around my house.
I decide to shred some old mail and organize my desk area when I see a picture of my father and I and once again, I am suddenly crying! "What the hell?!" is what I am thinking as this time, the tears don't stop for awhile.
Two of my closest friends coincidentally lost their fathers within 6 days of each other - and recently. Far more recent than I lost mine. And also coincidentally, a text message appears with one of their names across my screen as I finally pulled myself together. I open the text to find a picture of her latest tattoo; it is a beautifully done portrayal of her father's handwriting with the words "I love you" seemingly on her wrist. "Wow," I think to myself. How beautiful that is. And wow- how well do I know the desire for a permanent tribute; I did the same thing after my father died last year. All of these thoughts go through my mind... and then I start to cry again.
Ok. If you -the reader- are someone who knows me very well, you would know that I am not a huge crier. Unlike my mother (& most women that I know), I don't get highly emotional to the point of tears often. So after my 3rd round of waterworks, I began to wonder what the hell was going on and checked the calendar.
After daddy died, I remember talking to my mother and her checking up on me around certain times of the month. She explained that for her, even years after her mother passed, she would find herself feeling sad around the anniversary of my grandmother's death. She wouldn't even realize why until months & months later, when she finally connected the dots. You might think that is weird but over the past year, I have found that I too become this atypical version of myself right around the anniversary of my father's death. Meaning, subconsciously, every month for the past 14 months, I become sad whenever the 22nd approaches. These feelings of sadness (and occasional tears) usually lasts until the next month arrives, which makes sense: Daddy died on the 22nd and was "buried" on the 29th. I'm usually good-to-go by the time the 1st rears its head.
"...but today is the 10th, so what in the world is going on!?" I thought, as I wiped more tears away.
Then I realized... Father's Day is Sunday.
Ah. I did not factor that in. I have become a pro at quickly deleting all "Father's Day Sale" emails that I've received, without truly letting the thought seep in. I honestly did not even remember. And though I had to deal with it last year, for the majority of my life I very angrily rebelled against Father's Day. In fact, I often gave my mother a call or sent a card to thank her for her role as a stand-in. It wasn't until daddy's stroke in 2004 that I began to acknowledge the day to him (and even then it took some years to get in the rhythm of doing).
I hate admitting that. I hate feeling like I wished things were different. I don't have regrets in life...I live my life like that on purpose actually, because I don't like that feeling. But with regards to him, I do wish some things were handled differently. I do wish that our relationship was different. I wish a lot of things.
I cannot change time, however. I lack that ability obviously & I can't control my eyes from crying either, so all I can do at this point is continue to heal and hopefully help my friends too. In the meantime, I reach for a bottle of wine, clarity & serenity.
I surely am still learning how to cope with this 1-parent thing... consciously and subconsciously.
I surely am still learning how to cope with this 1-parent thing... consciously and subconsciously.
*M*
Hers:
Mine:
The wine:
