^^me + dad in germany^^
Today showed up without much fanfare — crammed in between daily life, busy work schedules, being sick, and a trip we are leaving for tomorrow. Of course I always think of October as the month that my dad died, but the actual day itself startled me. I didn’t go to sleep or wake up thinking about it — it was only as I was going about my normal routine did it occur to me, “oh yeah, today is the 15th of October.”
I don’t know what this means — whether my dad’s absence is so much a part of my life now, that the loss is no longer so startling. Or if it signals a scarier truth — that I’m starting to forget — or maybe not place too much meaning into the significance of one day.
There’s no guideline for this sort of thing, no book that tells you how you should feel seven years after your dad passed away. The sad times and happy times and frustrating times and funny times and all the things I ever loved about Dad — those are always there, every day, not just today.
Last year’s post here
