So, its fall, approaching November. I always have a sink this time of year. The anniversary of my Dad’s death, the holidays and what they look like without him, and with divorce and what expectations I have vs what actually is. It seems to settle down onto me every year at this time now, and on january first, it begins to go away. a new year, a new time to figure out where and when and how I’m going to experience the next one.
And I do think there is something to the veil being thin this time of year. The veil between the living and the dead. I do. And I’m sorry if this is not where you want reading to be going for you today. Feel free to skip to the end and sign out. I’m thinking about my dad on a daily basis, and its good, and sad, and i feel lonely most days, in one way or another.
I’m working lately with a friend’s dad, who is in need of companionship while his body is slowly leaving us. He’s a great guy, and he is thoughtul and loving and adoring of his children. Last time I was there he kissed my hand like I was some kind of princess. We laugh a good amount. He is undergoing radiation currently and will often fall asleep as we are talking. I have a book nearby for those moments.
He reminds me a lot of my dad. And my dad’s death. And my dad dying was part of why i knew i’d need to change my marriage, or leave it, and try and look for more than what I had. The sadnesses of this season are many. And I am getting better each year, and have been getting better for many years.
I’m learning a hell of a lot; about insurance, medicare, slow things, grip tape, pill boxes, ideal situations, and less than. I’m seeing the toll it takes on families to adjust, to negotiate health and wellness of parents, as parents, as well as sibling relationships, guilt, one’s own mortality, and just the overflow of grief, while still being alltogether here and responsible for the freaking laundry.
My friends and I are entering into this season, in all sorts of ways, and I just hold us all in this sort of beach towel swaddle, a warm respite from the chill of the waters. A mother’s comfort.
may we all find it, when we look for it.