It hit today. It's a week before the anniversary and I thought it might not happen. Maybe I brought it on myself, but it doesn't matter. It came anyway -- that sadness that I feel this time of year. I can't explain it. I'm never sure how to share it. I don't know what to do with it but acknowledge that it's here. It's here and I miss my mom. That's what this week holds for me.
How did it happen? I picked up a recommended book by APBS. She said it had some great, honest insight on loss and grief. I'm always interested in how people write about this topic because it's rarely either of these things. I'm almost done with the book and it hadn't hit yet. I hadn't caught this insight quite yet. That is, until I tried to read this afternoon. Until the author started to talk about the word widower. I remember learning this word. I remember how it stung and how the other kids didn't know what this word was -- but it's what my dad was. And then, the author started to talk about how nice everyone was to him. I put the book down because I remember that. I hated it. I wanted them to leave me alone and instead my classmates showered me with presents like it was my birthday. It wasn't. My mother had died.
I didn't think about reading this book right now -- and how that might be hard. I was just curious. I mean, I'm dating a musician. Love should be a freakin' mix tape. I didn't think about the mix that I made years ago about my mother. Love actually has been a mix tape for me. I need a conversation partner and a few friends. Thank God that order will be filled in only 30 minutes.