I woke up at 3:00 am, yes that is early. The entire house was asleep. I layed there in the dark quiet and thought, I remembered, I cried, I I wanted to shout--I wanted to wake up this tiny dark house and alert it--the occupants to what day it was. This was not just a normal, everyday kind of day. But I remained still.
I said my good-byes to Ryan then dropped the kids to school. They were busy with their own agendas (school politics, track meets, lunches, and friends). I was still heaving around the weight of the day but chose not to burden.
I went to the gym and glanced around at all the bodies getting in their daily exercises regime. The treadmills, ellipticals and stair climbers were all humming. I wanted to scream--"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT DAMN DAY IT IS??" But I did not, I ran as fast and as hard as my own body would allow--thank goodness that it can run far and hard!
A call came in from work--my favorite fragile patient had just taken a "ground level fall". They asked, "would you please come and check her out--see if she should go to the hospital". I went, I assessed, I advised. Not once did I mention what today meant to me. I chuckled to myself thinking of how I would bring it up in conversation. Something like: "Yeah, bad fall, bad bang up on the knee, she is anticoagulated so you should go get a picture of the knee to make sure she is not bleeding into the joint, and oh did you know today is my dead dad's birthday? That would have been awesome (as William loves to say).
I came home from work. Asked all the questions a mother is supposed to ask about--only I am not sure I entirely cared about the answers. Nobody seemed to remember what day it was. Well, not nobody. My brothers, mother and SIL sent comforting texts. They knew what day it was.
It is funny how the world continues on, no matter what is happening inside of me.
It makes me look at the guy next to me in the line at the grocery store, or one of the other mothers picking up a child at school, or even one of the people I call friend and wonder what day it is for them.
5 comments:
Was that yesterday or today? We talked about your dad for a second yesterday. I'm so sorry. Anniversaries of lost love ones are hard...
love to read your writing. so true about the world still moving when you're hurting! don't they know? happy birthday to your dad! xoxo
I read some where not too long ago (I don't remember where or exactly how it goes)but something like, "One never gets over the loss but learns to appreciate the anniversaries." I know that your dad is very proud of you and what you have accomplished--your amazing family, your career and your faith. Celebrate the good times and only grieve the bad.
Good writing! I agree. I've also thought often that part of the reason we have to go through these hard things is so we can think about others and "wonder about their days". I've got another anniversary coming up that is hard, oh, these days! Love you!
Funny how it happens, but I could feel it coming before I even realized the date significance.
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