Thursday, July 8, 2010

The 8th of July

It comes every year, this day marking my father's death. As the calendar turns from June, as 4th of July preparations are undertaken, I can't help but look to the 8th and to feel sadness.


Oh, sure, the pain and sadness and tears are far less than they were in the beginning. I remember at the time not wanting to have that sadness lessen. It seemed to me that as long as I could maintain being that sad, I still loved him as I had loved him when he was alive. It would be a betrayal to him to ever not be so overwhelmingly sad.


We're not meant to live that way, though. I imagine we can't really continue to live that way. Survival kicks in as time passes. We grow. We age.


Years and years and years of the 8th of July have come and gone. I have nothing remarkable to say, no epiphany to share, no words of wisdom to impart.


Just.


I miss you, Dad. I love you, Dad.

4 comments:

Magpie said...

I'm sorry, honey.

Michele R said...

I'm sorry that 7/8 is sad but hope it brings strength too in what he left.

Jeni said...

So much of what you wrote here rings very true for me -except I'm not well, shall we say, hung up or whatever word I'm looking for there, I don't know -about my Mom's passing. I know it was October of 1979, I know it was right around the time of my birthday too but exactly which day it was now escapes my memory. I do however still miss her, very much. Sometimes it is for the petty little things, the weirdness that often permeated our relationship and if it's that part I recall, it is then the daily arguments we had for years prior to her death. It's when things happen within our family tree and I think how I wish I could talk to her, to share this news, as it where, with her. Or it's how much I think, as I watch my grandkids now, how she would have enjoyed them. How much she could/should/would have enjoyed being able to watch her own three grandchildren grow into the adults they are today -warts and all, ya know, as kids go. But I don't hurt inside in the same way as I did then when it was new and very, very raw to me.

Tara R. said...

You have my sincere condolences.

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