One year ago tonight I was in Columbus, GA, shopping for something comfortable to wear home the next day because I was going to be going straight to the hospital after catching the first flight home. I had an idea that this might be serious, but despite the obvious signs of declining health, I really had no idea that in three days time my dad would no longer be with us.

It's hard to believe it's been a year.

I've been doing really good, but now I'm not. I had planned to go and meet dad's closest friends and our family for dinner tomorrow night. I had thought about how to mark the occasion and the idea of sharing stories, and being with people who loved him brought me great comfort. It has given me something to look forward to.

But now it's going to snow. A lot. I'm afraid we may not be able to go.

Grief is such a mean bully.

I had decided earlier in the week that I was just going to shut down my blog. I had spent a lot of the last few months just slowly spiraling. I have missed personal deadlines and delayed getting pictures edited that I needed to finish. I just started feeling a malaise of sorts over everything I touched. Nothing seemed of value. I've thought I should just put away my keyboard, and my camera, and curl up within myself.

And then just yesterday I went to talk with my therapist that I had started going to this year for grief therapy. After 30 minutes or so we kind of uncovered the fact that these feelings of dissatisfaction was, in fact, my grief. This was my way of taking the hurt and turning it into things I could talk about and maybe do something about. It's tricky remembering that you are sad about something that you cannot fix. Far easier to be sad about things you can fix. I'm glad to know that, but knowing something and feeling something are two very different somethings.

Bad roads. Another thing I cannot fix that is keeping me from the one thing I had came up with to deal with the other thing I cannot fix. What a fix.


What's my point in writing this down? What is my point…

I don't know. I'm not sure who reads this (you should have heard how my inside voice just answered THAT little intro) but I just wanted to tell the interweb that I'm sad.

I want to shout into the ether: Losing people you love really sucks all the time, but Christmas, with it's memories…extra bad. And, I don't know why we can't figure out how to add something into pavement that causes snow to melt and keeps roads from freezing.

I'm too tired to yell into the ether.

Obviously, if you read my facebook, I'm also very happy. I have some great kids and a kick-butt husband. I have a fantastic mom and step-dad. Great brothers and sisters. Precious friends. Lots of goodness. I love them and I can't wait to spend time with them over the holidays. But none of that makes the sadness go away completely.

So if you are with me. If you are both incredibly sad and incredibly joy-filled this Christmas, I just want you to know that I get it. I understand how you can both anticipate and dread something in equal measure, all at the same time. I get how you can mentally know that your life is good while also feeling like it's not. I cannot confirm that you are not crazy, but I can confirm that you are not alone.

I'm going to sit here now, in front of our Christmas tree, and read with a warm cup of apple cider. And I'm going to try and remember that I'm ok. And if things don't work out tomorrow, I'm just going to reschedule it for another night over the holidays and I'm going to remember that I'm ok.

But part of me is not ok, and that is ok.



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