Here the thing about grief… for the last week I have been dreading the 8th July. It’s the second anniversary of my Dad’s passing. And on that day all the memories of that event come flooding back, well they did last year. This year I just wanted it to go by, everyday is another day without him. I didn’t want to think about it. But I think the anticipation of trying to avoid it has made it a whole week of yuck. I didn’t cry yesterday, I came close a couple of times but I held it. I didn’t mention it to the King, I didn’t tell the kids. I just didn’t want to talk about, think about or discuss it. I think I’m onto the acceptance part but with a healthy dose of denial still peppered in there. There were some messages on facebook in the morning from my cousins but I didn’t respond, Sorry L and T, I just couldn’t.
I haven’t slept much all week. Last night was no different and with Miss Gremlin doing her Lacrosse camp for July, I’m up with the fucking farting sparrows every morning helping her get ready for an 8am start. Who even does that on summer vacation?
So needless to say, I’m not much fun to be around, I’m tired, holding back tears, cranky, snappy and generally belligerent all round. I had beer yesterday too. Because I thought I needed it but it just made my stomach hurt and the scales lie to me this morning so fuck beer, fuck anniversaries and fuck grief. It doesn’t get better.
It never goes away but I have purple nails now, so there’s that.