A hard anniversary

A week ago I had one of the harder anniversaries in life. My father died May 2, 2007. There were a lot of good things in the manner of his passing. We had a heads up in October, followed by surgery that seemed to be successful. When the cancer came back we had a scant two months -- long enough to come to terms, and long enough to say all the goodbyes. He was alert and relaxed a week before he died. There were just four days when it took two of us to take care of him, and we were able to do that at home, with hospice services. Morphine kept his pain at bay, and his head clear. He died in his sleep after a long life. In his last weeks all the fears that had constricted his life seemed to fall away, and he was more alive than I'd ever seen him.

All that is fine. But none of it changes the fact that a year ago I lost my Daddy.

I was in a REALLY pissy mood on May 2, 2008. I was on an astonishingly short fuse -- had to call someone back to apologize for yelling at them. (The issue was real, but my tone of voice was uncalled for and, more to the point, counter-productive.)

Last year, I was in that shocky buffer zone that keeps you functioning after a loss. Last year I spent months dealing with the paper work and errands connected with a loss, giving my mother time to grieve for the only sweetheart she ever had. This year, I had no buffers.

Just a suggestion, but if you lose someone close to you note the anniversary on your calendar and plan to be someplace comforting that week. Plan to be non-functional.