I woke up this morning after dreaming of my father. It's funny that he came through on a day I would've expected to dream of Mom or Grandma H., his mother. I feel okay now, as I write this, mid-afternoon. This morning I did experience some sadness. I liked seeing my dad in the dream, in his old sleeping ensemble of sweatshirt and boxers. I think missing seeing him padding around the house in socks or this getup is the source.
I miss all three of them. March 7th is and isn't a day of sadness. Now it is more of a day of remembrance. I do remember with a slightly heavier heart, but I loved GH and my mom so dearly that I'm glad Mom went on a family day. March 7th was my grandmother's birthday, three days before my birthday. I never stopped remembering her birthday over these last ten years, and with mom dying on that day, I know I will never forget it.
Dad died on September 22nd, and Tim's birthday is September 25, so we share our sorrows. We maybe fulfill dad's vision that way, of being each other's life friend in remembering our parents before we celebrate our births.
Okay. I raise a Busch beer to my grandmother, and something sweet to my mother. You are both missed.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
I realize it's a bad week
Most of this week has passed uneventfully, although I have been moody.
Let's see. Today is the fourth of March, which means the funeral was five months ago today. The anniversary of my mom's death is March 7th, aaaand my 35th birthday is March 10th. I have cried this week. The birthday is not a big deal as I always round my age up three months ahead of time when a big one is coming. When I turned 30, I packed up my sociopath lovahboy and headed to Hawaii for the weekend. Five years later I'm staying home and hoping it passes kind of uneventfully. I'm going to California in April for a weekend of baseball; it will have to do. The WOB is falling the weekend after Coachella, so I am skipping Coachella. Next year, next year. I seem to be saying that every year now.
Holy shitsnacks, look at the time. Well, so, I figured out why I am so moody. The body knows even if the mind forgets.
Let's see. Today is the fourth of March, which means the funeral was five months ago today. The anniversary of my mom's death is March 7th, aaaand my 35th birthday is March 10th. I have cried this week. The birthday is not a big deal as I always round my age up three months ahead of time when a big one is coming. When I turned 30, I packed up my sociopath lovahboy and headed to Hawaii for the weekend. Five years later I'm staying home and hoping it passes kind of uneventfully. I'm going to California in April for a weekend of baseball; it will have to do. The WOB is falling the weekend after Coachella, so I am skipping Coachella. Next year, next year. I seem to be saying that every year now.
Holy shitsnacks, look at the time. Well, so, I figured out why I am so moody. The body knows even if the mind forgets.
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