We are half way through that first year of dates and anniversaries we are marking without him. Dates that normally would have been celebrated are merely being crossed off a list, they have turned into a series of events that must be faced and coped with. They have become challenges and accomplishments – things we have to survive. But we are surviving, we are marching ahead.
I fretted about our wedding anniversary for days before it arrived only to discover the day is now just a day, a date on the calendar. I spent it alone by choice, I feared I would be an emotional wreck. But I wasn’t.
A similar thing happened in June on Father’s Day – I worried and geared up to fall apart, and didn’t. The tsunami of grief didn’t hit until after the day had passed – it was a retrospective wave that came with the sigh that we had survived.
Perhaps the suffering of these dates is in the before and after of the actual day, in the anticipation and relief. We spend the day itself on alert for tears, suppressing emotions. And then we relax and grief waltzes through the door. ‘A-ha!’ It says, ‘gotcha!’
The special days will keep coming – all the firsts, then the seconds – and we will breathe in anticipation, hold our breath for the day, and exhale when it’s over. Life is carrying on without him, we are chalking up the dates, crossing them off the list, surviving. We are the survivors and that’s what survivors have to do.