A little wallowing for Flag Day

June 14, 2012 14:52 – 14:52

I think I now have three months to hate—May, June, and July. May 9th, because that’s when I lost my best friend of 40 years, my sweetheart of 39 years, and my wife for almost 38 years. June 14th, because that’s my 38th anniversary, and there’s nobody left to anniverse with—nothing left to celebrate. June also contains Father’s Day, but the one person who called me “Dad” has been gone for almost three years. And, of course, July 2nd, because that’s the third anniversary of the most horrible day in this parent’s life—the day my daughter, Katie, was killed. And July 4th—Independence Day. This is the kind of independence I never wanted and never bargained for.

I suppose I’m supposed to say that I was lucky to have had them in my life for as long as I did. I was. Or that I’m blessed to have family and friends who love me. I am blessed. But, I still feel cheated, and deserted. I’m not supposed to be the last one standing. I’m not supposed to be trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.

So, pardon me while I wallow in highly-deserved self-pity. When you see me, I might sing, laugh, and joke. But, you see, that’s the way I am on the outside… always trying to reduce stress by trying to make people (especially myself) laugh, or trying to cheer someone up with a song. (If my singing doesn’t cheer them up, then my stopping singing does… so it’s win-win.) I’ve been this way all my life, and I’m not about to change at this late date.

But, please don’t mistake the façade for insufficient grief and misery. The grief and misery are there.

This wallowing has been sponsored by incredible sadness. I now return you to your regularly scheduled façade programming, already in progress.

Sorry, comments for this entry are closed at this time.