Friday, February 18, 2011

The Space Between...

... Valentine's Day and this next week are always a bit weird for me.

During wedding planning, I did not realize at first when we picked our wedding date that it would be nine days after Valentine's Day.
I have not been a huge Valentine's Day person in years anyway.
But three years ago, as Valentine's Day approached, I thought about what that would mean in the future.
Combined gifts?
Bigger deal?
Maybe weekends away to celebrate both days?
In 2008, we decided we were giving each other a wedding for Valentine's Day and that was enough for that year.
No other gift besides becoming my husband was necessary.

This past Valentine's Day, I did not care as much about that hallmark holiday.
I was more upset about my dad oddly enough.
I miss him a lot right now.
The inability to call him up and talk to him is starting to really hurt.
It seems suicide and/or father's dying is all over my regular television shows.
Marshall on "How I Met Your Mother" lost his father.
"Grey's Anatomy" always has death but for some reason a lot of dads that I have noticed.
Addison's mother committed suicide on "Private Practice."
On the "lovely" Valentine's day, a teacher at the school mentioned how his brother had tried to commit suicide over the weekend.
After a rough first two blocks of teaching on Monday morning, I barely could keep it together.
I had to leave the room.

Then I started thinking about how it was only nine more days till my third wedding anniversary.

Which turned into just a week.

Which now turned into just around the corner.
I just feel so jealous of other people getting to celebrate their anniversaries.
I feel so left out to have married years together versus just a few months.

Tonight as I watched yesterday's episode of Private Practice, Addison said "I used to think they were selfish and wonder what they were thinking. But they aren't thinking.  They aren't selfish.  In that moment, they were broken."
It is hard to think of my dad as broken.
He was never broken to me.

So as I stumble toward the twenty-third, I feel grief times two.
Missing Roger.
Missing my dad.
Missing wedding anniversaries.
The crankiness is here.
Along with irritableness and involuntary tears.

Sigh...
February is almost over.
At least one of the grief monsters can go back into the closet.
For now.
Hopefully.

1 comment:

Crash Course Widow said...

My wedding anniversaries were always hit or miss with how hard they were, after Charley died. The first one post-death was awful--probably because it was only my second wedding anniversary--and I think I chose to mostly ignore (or at least downplay) my wedding anniversary for the next 2 or 3 years. I just didn't have the energy to fall apart for them. But I had a really hard time with what was supposed to be my fifth wedding anniversary--and my fourth while widowed.

But I wonder if maybe I could exert some choice in the matter each year (loosely, anyway), simply because I did get to have at least one wedding anniversary with Charley. Totally sucked that it was only one, but at least there WAS one.

Anna's birthday, though, was totally different--alternately excruciatingly hard or else totally grumpy- and pissy-making--for…um…6 years? And who knows if it was just a fluke of distractions this past year that it wasn't as bad, vs. being better because of sufficient healing? And I knew it was hard every year because her dad never got to see a single birthday.

…Probably not unlike what you feel about your and Roger's wedding anniversary, I imagine. Hang in there, Star. I hope and pray that this week passes quickly and as relatively painlessly as possible….And 'happy' 3rd anniversary, too. I looked at your wedding photos last week on FB, for no real reason. It was such a beautiful wedding, my friend. =)