Party For Grant

The 3 year anniversary of Grant’s passing has come and gone.  On the previous two anniversaries of this day, I just try to get through the day as if it’s nothing, because it isn’t a day I want to remember. 

It definitely isn’t something I want to celebrate, and not an anniversary I really want to live over and over again.  I’ve said this before… but this year, something different caught my thoughts.  What was different, was that some family wanted to put on a remembrance.

A memorial get together for the anniversary was proposed and I was asked if that would be ok.   Well, I remember everyday that he’s gone. I don’t need a celebration for that,  is my usual inner thought.  However, I also feel the most capable I ever have of handling something like this.

It is a kind gesture, so I leaned into it.  I’m not against remembering him.  Mostly I felt the benefit of something like this, would be that the boys may get something they need out of. So, I said ok, thinking more of the boys and those who wanted to plan it.

I figure those who wanted to participate in it and to let the boys be a part of remembering their dad is worthwhile.  Also, I don’t do this kind of thing ever, and the reason for that, is that mostly, I’d prefer to forget than remember. 

All that I would be required of me to do was sit through it and hope that it would be something the boys would enjoy.  It was planned, the day came, and people showed up. That was sweet. I appreciated those who came, because I knew they were coming to show support. 

I haven’t been able to get too far outside of myself over these 3 years since the funeral and this was the first time anything was done for a remembrance. As the people gathered, one family member said to me, ``Wow… it’s been 3 years?!?! It went by so fast.” 

Then they paused and restated that, “Well… it probably hasn’t felt that way for you.” Nope, it hasn’t for me.  What they said next was what really touched me, it was, “we should be celebrating you.  Hum… I thought, yeah we should.  

But out of my mouth came. “Well, since I’m still alive, I don’t get a party, I just get all the work.  The dead guy gets the party.”  Salty I know, but ya know, that’s how it feels. Salt in the wound.  Grant died and gets all the happy memories.

 I’m left to carry his burden of being gone and without a party to celebrate any of what I’ve been doing, just all the expectations that it get done.  Yep. Salty.  As the event proceeded, I began to see how it was something that those who don’t live with it everyday would appreciate. 

Me, however? I still remember every day that Grant is gone and sitting through a special gathering to remember that; I knew it would take the remainder of my effort and emotion in the moment.  That feeling permeated me as I listened to people sharing their memories of Grant.

I got through it.  How did it turn out? Well… it was fine.  I felt just as I expected, but got through it with a little more grace than I felt on the inside.  Rhys stayed and listened through all of it.  It seemed that he really enjoyed hearing others talk about his dad.  

As people shared memories they had, I think it helped them process his death so they could feel better. I didn’t share anything. I didn’t want to.  The three younger boys were out of sight within 10 minutes .  They had no interest in listening to adults drone on and on.  

I wasn’t about to go after them to get them to sit through things they really don’t care about even if it did have to do with their dad. They are so young still that they don’t have the patience in their childhood to listen to nonsense when there is a playground to be played on, and fresh grass to run around in.  

As they should, that’s where I’d rather be too.  I’m doing better than I ever have.  The burden is just as great now as it was the day it began 3 years ago.  I was unexpectedly thrust into so many new lives that it became the beginning of a journey helping me to find what I’m capable of in myself.  

It allowed a new person to emerge that I had no idea existed and yet has always been me. That’s my celebration, even if no one else celebrates me here. There are even some who despise and resist the person I am discovering in myself. 

It hurts not to feel loved and accepted in my own losses, yet I believe that is because they see the person who was lost and keep thinking I should stay the person who was left.  They just may not be able to see the miracle that is who I’ve become, and it’s all ok.  

I’ve never loved myself more.  In spite of the love I had and lost, I feel more love than I ever did before.  As I’m continually filled with more and more love, the beauty of that is that I keep learning. 

I’m discovering the many ways to love in pain and joy and from there, to let things be.  That way I keep on keeping on, and so it is.  Next year, on the 4 year anniversary,  I plan to go back to doing things my way and even make it my ideal.  

Something like a night in a nice hotel, by myself with a spa day where I can relax, smile,  get a massage.  I’ll probably sit in a steam room and do yoga to nourish myself and celebrate me while I just breathe.