I will forever think of January as the darkest month.
For twenty years whenever the first day of the New Year rolled in I would remember my dad had died New Year's Eve of 1992, he didn't get to see the first day of '93.
January of 2013 rolled in with extreme excitement . The past year had been awesome. The first year in years of waiting for dreaded phone calls, that none came. Many happy days of waking and not having any bad news concerning my sister's health. Great parties and celebrations. The happy news my children's books would finally 'be' in print . I texted my sister (the eldest one) immediately after midnight to wish her a happy new year, joyously proclaiming how I was seeing great things happening in 2013. She responded, in all caps- FOR ALL OF US....not even two weeks later, the phone call came.
As my sister (the youngest) and I rushed through the doors of the hospital towards the elevators for ICU I had my head down responding to well wishes from Facebook friends on my cell. Suddenly I could see my dad walk past and I quickly turned around to see if maybe I had walked too close to someone who resembled him and I would apologize. No one was there. This was one of those, 'oh, Damn moments' you never want to face.
My unexpected movements caused my sister to stop,too. I explained what I thought I saw and we brushed it off and continued on our way. I kept that vision to myself, but I knew in that moment our life was going to change.
Why else would he be there except to see his favorite daughter. Who else would God send, but the man who angered her the most. It gave me comfort to believe they had finally made up and Angela's soul would 'be' at rest. Needless to say, I really wanted to believe 'he' was there to comfort her and send her back to us. Didn't happen.
And then here comes 2014, another year of full faced devastation. Once again I get a call, this time it's Mom. For 17 days I sat by her side praying for a miracle and wanting every twitch to 'be' a good sign, I knew better.
I can't even explain the feelings of the days to come. On Thanksgiving morning, she passed away.
Its as if life exploded into a million fragments in a wind tunnel made from a black plastic bag. You punch and fight to get out while trying to put your life back together. Trying to hurry and put the pieces back together and then get out of the bag before you smother in your sorrow. The only thing that will save you is acceptance. Once you go through that door, all else is easier. It doesn't get better, nothing really changes but it seems easier, the weight of grief is gone, the days feel brighter and the new normal seems promising.
I still see great things happening this 2015, I just see them from a different angle.
I have to say, when my time comes and if God sends the one person who irritated me so much in life that every time I saw or thought of him I wanted to spit, God and I will box for sure.
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