To many reading this tomorrow will be just another day. Tomorrow for me, marks the one year anniversary of my father's death. I go to sleep tonight with a wet pillow because it feels like I have just existed this past year in shock. My heart breaks when I realize that It has been a year since I have held his hand. I thought I wouldn't be able to live without him, and I fear I haven't lived, just merely existed.
I see the withdrawal surfacing in my mother as she steels herself for another dose of pain. "One year of firsts is the hardest." This was the advice we were given by well meaning friends. At least I can say they meant well.
My life has changed since my hero died. I made new substitute heroes but none can fill those big wide shoes. No one has been able to advise me quite as well, or annoy me quite as bad.
I feel like grief counselling may have been a façade that I used to hide my actual feelings. I thought I was grieving but is it possible that I wasn't? This pain is more than I have felt in a long time.
Maybe the loops of time will start over each year like the movie groundhog day. Beginning with pain in mid august.
Tonight I allow myself to feel because tomorrow I will have an audience.
