The Season of Firsts

For the most part, I’d say I’m doing pretty well handling the loss of my father. It’s not like it’s easy, but I’m trying to be honest with myself about my grief. Some stuff catches me off guard and causes weird overly harsh reactions. But, I can usually catch myself and acknowledge where the reaction is really coming from.
This past weekend Robert participated in a Columbus Day soccer tournament. While at the tournament Don commented on seeing so many grandparents at the games. I nonchalantly said that my dad was the grandparent who did that stuff. However during the same car ride when he mentioned Thanksgiving, I became extremely tense and said “Let’s just have Subways and pretend it’s not happening. Or hope someone invites us somewhere.” I didn’t want to have that conversation.
As everyone enters the Holiday season, we also enter our “Season of Firsts”. First Halloween, First Thanksgiving, First Christmas Eve, First Christmas and First New Year’s.

Even as I write this I start to cry. (Pausing to let emotions pass).

It’s hard to envision these days.

There are so many withouts:

• without my dad’s roasted parsnips and potatoes.
• without his homemade crusty french bread.
• without his general crotchidy/grumpyness
• without traditional Thanksgiving Cioppino.
• without warm Black Label.

(and those are just the first Thanksgiving ones that come to mind. Don’t get me started on Christmas yet).

How I’ll cope is yet unknown, but this begins the process.

Luckily for all of us, we have two highly demanding small people to break the omnipresent sadness that looms when you think about withouts.

Kids will have none of that self-centered mopping.