I couldn’t let this day pass by without acknowledging that it’s a sad anniversary. It’s been one whole year since my dad died. Even writing that sentence is weird. How can such an event be 365 days ago and yet feel so recent in my thoughts and memories, like it could have been yesterday.
We (my mom, sister, and I) did good through December, knowing that time was looming, that hospice bubble anniversary. We couldn’t do anything about not being together on the actual day though. My sister and I had to get back to work after being off for the holidays. I left Mom’s house on January 1 to return to San Diego after being gone for three weeks (which was quite nice).
But those three weeks were fun-filled and full of adventure. Mom & I flew to SLC on 12/12, then on Friday, 12/14, the three of us went to Savannah to celebrate my mom’s 75th birthday. We had a great time, but I’ll have to tell those stories in another post. After that, we flew back to SLC and stayed until 12/28. It was so nice to be all together, with only a couple “scuffles” as my mom called them.
But today is different. I managed to keep myself fairly distracted with work and writing stuff in my new day planner. I posted something on my social media channels, and the responses I got were very touching and heartfelt. I texted with Mom and Sandy a bit through the day to make sure we were all okay.
I had decided, and my mom encouraged me, to go out to dinner or to a movie or something. I chose the former. I went to a new-to-me placed called Whiskey House, which it’s probably glad I didn’t go there any sooner or I’d be pretty poor. I had a lovely dinner of ribeye steak and fries, for dessert a creme brulee. I also had 2 Old Fashioneds, and then I also ordered a charcuterie plate with Spanish yumminess (manchego, chorizo, and jamon serrano). I also thought at the last minute to take a grief journal that my friend Lindsay had made for me after he died. She said that it was something she wished someone had given her after her mom died almost 2 years ago now. I cleaned off my desk last night in my efforts to prepare for the new year, and I uncovered the little book under piles of other books and papers. At the top of about 1/4 of the pages in the little book, she wrote things like: What I’ll miss most about him, How I remind myself of him, Things I could give a flying fuck about now, etc. I wasn’t ready to respond to these when she gave it to me, but I thought it would be perfectly fitting to reflect on some of these thoughts on this sad anniversary.
So I ate dinner, I drank whiskey, I wrote about my memories of my dad. They had an absolutely great playlist going and it was all very lovingly bittersweet. There were times I was overwhelmed with emotion, and I quietly cried at my table. Other things made me smile, and I could just imagine telling him about this night.
I miss you, Daddy-O.