Today marks the countdown of March. The first day of March means that inevitably there will be a last day of March. March 31st.
I met someone last week, and when we were talking it slipped out. "My dad died last year" It's the first time I've said that 'd' word out loud. In that sentence. I haven't been able to say that sentence with that word. I've alluded to it. Glossed around it. Tip toed silently...
I don't know why I couldn't say it-- and haven't been able to since. Maybe I was afraid that if I said it out loud it would mean that not only did I accept it, but I was ok with it. Like "brr, it's cold outside"
I've accepted it. Mostly because the evidence is clear. He hasn't been around. He wasn't with us for Christmas. There have been no visits. The boys didn't get birthday surprises from him. I never see him.
But I'm not ok with it. Not sure when I ever will be.
I go in phases. Some times are more difficult than others. This month? Well, we're only one day in, but it seems that there are reminders everywhere.
I miss him.