Today is the first anniversary of my Father’s death. This day last year, Christmas Eve, he was killed in a car accident. A friend was staying with me over Christmas, and we were sitting down with our first glass of seasonal ‘cheer’ when the Police arrived on my doorstep with the news. It was a horrible moment. They didn’t want to tell me, and I didn’t want to hear it. They were gone, and so were the following few days and all the seasonal cheer…and then some.
This year, this day, I did two things.
1. I was sad.
I changed my Facebook pictures, not for anyone else to notice, but as my own mark of respect. I looked at pictures, memories…and I cried. Not the deep unstoppable tears of shock and sorrow that came last year, but the kind that just fall out when something you love is no longer there.
2. I was happy.
I spent the day doing what I know my Father would have wanted for me, being happy.
I soaked up some vitamin D trimming the lawn. This always makes me feel good. The smell of fresh cut grass and clean lines stir something primitive.
I ran around the yard like a mad thing with my dogs, and when we were done, we all just flopped onto the grass and stared up at the passing clouds together.
I had an epic workout, which ended up as a full-on dance session.
I booked some arrangements for myself for next week, to do something somewhat spontaneous and fun.
I took a long, cold shower and then went for a walk to send off some last minute mail.
I picked up some fresh stone-fruit (one of my favourite things of this time of year.)
I spoke to a friend about life in general and got some positive reassurance.
I took a book out to read before the light faltered, but didn’t read a page. I was distracted by my girls wandering around and inquisitively exploring ‘new’ things in the yard. Issy finally positioned herself at my side and let the gentle swing of the hammock brush against her back. Zodi snuffled around me, trying to stick her nose in my face, while trying to figure out what was swallowing me up.
I just lay there contemplating life, my life, my world. Peacefully.
Instead of an alcoholic, smoke-filled haze, tonight will be quiet. In the morning, I will get up and spend the early morning with my girls, and then catch my ride to spend the rest of the day in company (the human kind).
There are people I love that I will miss being with very much, not because it’s Christmas, or a special day of the year, but because it’s another day. I miss them every day.
But…there will be drinks, music and food. There will be smiles and weapons, and silliness. There will be friends and hugs, and an electricity in the air. That’s life. And it goes on.
Be happy Kids. Smile.