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| 11/25/21 Dad with Grady |
Dad died one year ago today.
I know, I was there. We often tie our grief to the calendar. It always seems to find us.
Remembering Dad's death, at least this year, this first year, is a bit muddled because the 25th last year was the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Any of you whose losses are at, on, or around holidays understand how conflicted that can be. As little as a month ago, I was pretty certain that the Saturday after Thanksgiving is what I'd "feel" like when he died because, well, that's when it was a year ago. And now? No doubt, it's the 25th, regardless of where Thanksgiving falls.
How do I know? Up at 4 a.m. with some thoughts spinning. Boy, is that ever a "Jerry" move? Despite all the ways I have tried to demonstrate that I wasn't, I am most assuredly "Jerry's kid."
So, Dad, it's been a year. It took us all a while to get out of the rhythm of being constantly on call for something you might need.
Mom's doing ok. She's had moments, but haven't we all? I'm keeping watch as I promised. Don't worry.
I'd say I miss you, which I do, but in this year of you being gone, I'm aware of how present I feel you, hear you, think about you. Sometimes I laugh, and yes, sometimes it pisses me off (which is how I know it's you).
Our last couple of years in a caregiving/care-receiving relationship were hard and exhausting. But without that time, some truths would have never been spoken, and unconditional love that never would have been known. It seemed we both needed that from each other.
I miss making your breakfast to order. You know cooking is one of my love languages. For a few years, I pretty much stopped. I'm back at it, and I'm grateful.
As for singing? Still not there. Not sure if I'll ever be. We'll see.
I think of you when I put horseradish on my sausage biscuit. And a confession: when you wanted me to put a pinch of salt in your coffee, I didn't because I thought it was stupid. You never seemed to notice.
There's so much about those last weeks/months I shouldn't miss, but I do. You told us how you wanted things to go in your death, and we all tried to honor that. I think we did.
One year on, and we still don't have what's left of you from Genesis. Surely, someday soon, we will, and there's one more service to have at Ridgecrest, not too far from where we buried Jimmy.
I'll probably cry a little then. I'll probably cry a little today. And I'm good with that.
