Tuesday, July 03, 2007

A year and a day

"Mommy couldn't wake Daddy up and I heard her yelling his first name. She told me to wait by the door and let the paramedics in, and I did. Then she told me to go into my bedroom, so I went in, and I shut the door.

But I peeked."

-- G to her grandmother, July 3, 2006

Yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of P's death. I had been dreading it for weeks, but when it arrived, it turned out to be somewhat anticlimactic. We had already had a formal memorial on Saturday (an event fraught with more drama than a Tennessee Williams play), so the day itself was only unusual in its normalcy. I know G knew that it was THE day, because last week she asked "Why are we having the party on Saturday when July 2 is when it happened?" But we seemed to have an unspoken agreement that we were going to carry on as usual, and we did: she played and watched television, we went to the supermarket, and we took a walk that was cut short due to the blazing summer heat. Dull, ordinary, normal stuff.

Now you're probably all wondering Weren't you sad? Of course I was, but I've been sad every day since P died, and this day wasn't any worse than the 364 that came before it -- in fact, it was a bit easier than some of the others, like his birthday and Father's Day. It wasn't an especially good day either, but then no day is ever going to be really good now that he's gone. I don't suppose I'll ever see a movie or visit a new place or do anything fun again without remembering that he isn't here to experience it too, or wondering what he would have thought of it.

The day I'm expecting to be really difficult is our eleventh wedding anniversary, which is coming up on Friday. For years and years, the scent of flowers -- not garden flowers, but the sort that come from the florist -- always reminded me of our wedding. Since last year, they've reminded me of P's funeral. Every now and then, someone will deliver a bouquet to the lobby at work, and I always get sick to my stomach when I walk past the reception desk and catch a whiff of that overpowering sweetness. It's a shame; I used to love flowers, and now they're spoiled forever. Thank God I didn't know on our wedding day that I'd end up feeling this way.

1 comment:

Pixilated Mum said...

(((((((hugs))))))))

No words. Just hugs and prayers and thought for you and G.