I have a thing for dates. I remember the exact date when things happen, celebrate weird anniversaries and have a calendar that is 4 feet wide and 3 feet tall on my bedroom wall.
I tell you this to explain why I will sometimes be fixated on what this date, day, or time in my life was in a past year(s). Today is one such instance...
Last year on this Wednesday in November, I had an dense fog surrounding my thoughts and actions. I was preparing to celebrate a Thanksgiving of firsts; first time celebrating in Los Angeles with Scott's mom, her first time cooking turkey in her vegeterian household, and my first Thanksgiving without my dad. The first two things I was looking forward to and the last one I was scared of. I also would be observing what would have been his 50th birthday without him the same weekend.
In preparation, I was glad that I would be attending what I affectionately refer to as "sad camp" to speak with others who had either weathered these hard times before or who would be experiencing them with me for the first time. I remember how glad I was to have an adventure to look forward to and how worried I was to break down in front of Scott's family (which I did, inevitably).
This year I am living with a clearer vision but a bit more dread. I want to be excited for the holiday. This will be what I work on as I go to "sad camp" this evening. I miss my dad, today. I guess the more truthful statement would be "I miss my dad everyday."
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