This phrase still chokes me up. Oh, and watching old couples walk together, hands clasped, shuffling down Main, chatting. A life devoted to one another. History together. Such crap when I know my mom won’t get that with my dad …
Several surfaces of my house have been decorated with delicious floral arrangements this past week. Family reaching out to me during a month I’ve come to loathe as I cannot seem to turn off the ‘dead dad’ triggers. I mean, I have no issue thinking of my dad hundreds of times a day; I do it every day, during every month of the year. But August brings about more than just the memories and heartache. It’s like I have to relive his final moments … or, in real-time, final days. Why must my brain do this over, and over, and over again in August?? Haven’t I moved beyond this part of the process? Have I not proven to myself that I am getting a handle on things and can stifle the sadness in most situations? Such an odd thing, grief.
Mom's Rainbow
And then I acknowledge that if my continued grief is any indication of what my mom will continue to endure on a much grander scale, she has a whole lotta hurtin’ to do for a really, really long time. That’s supposed to be the trade-off, ya’ know?? You suffer through the hard times, find humor in the small moments, and then you’re supposed to get a good, what? … 15, 20 years of retirement and celebration that, ‘Hey, we made it! Let’s honor this life together! Let’s go be high school sweethearts again and bask in the knowledge that we done good!! We raised our kids right, we had some laughs, we toughed out the shit … and I’m so glad I got to share this journey with you by my side. Thank you for witnessing my life. It truly has been an honor to witness yours.’
Nope. Doesn’t seem to work out that way for my mom, of all people. And she deserves that time on the flip-side. The trade-off time. The much-anticipated “best is yet to be …” IT’S NOT FAIR. There, I said it. 3 years out and IT STILL ISN’T FAIR. My incredible mother doesn’t get to grow old with my dad and experience what that “best” could have looked like. It’s such shit. It was shit when he got sick in August 1999. It was shit when he died in August 2005. It’s shit now. NOT FAIR. And I feel like this is a month where I can say that outloud. Because I know that there are far shittier things happening all over this world at every moment of the day and night. Believe me, I know. I choose to focus on those injustices almost every other time of the year. But today I get to say, “This still sucks.”
