Yesterday, August 4th, marks 7 years since my father lost his battle with cancer. I'd like to say that it's gotten easier with time, but it really, truly hasn't. In fact, I think it's gotten worse, at least recently. My heart aches, and I miss him so much. I've lived almost 1/3 of my life without him, and days like this make me especially aware of the absence.
Truth be told, I had forgotten what the day was until my sister's usual LiveJournal post reminded me, and then I was annoyed at myself for forgetting. Annoyance soon turned to sorrow, and I spent almost the entire 6 hours between work and bed this morning (I work third shifts right now) in tears at my computer looking through pictures of him. My sister kept pretty detailed journal posts about everything surrounding that time, and as I do every year on this day (and sometimes on his birthday, too, he would have been 60 this year) I read through them to remind myself that I still knew, still remembered.
I listened to
this song on repeat for a good 2 hours before finally running out of steam and collapsing into bed. It's a hopeful yet sad song that my family chose to play during a slideshow of my father's life at the funeral so many years ago. Until yesterday I hadn't listened to it since the funeral, but now I have it bookmarked and I play it once or twice every so often. Not sure if it harms or helps, but I listen to it anyway.
I don't know whether all this is healthy, or making things worse on myself. I'm not so good with emotions like this, or grief. But, um, yeah, that's my story.
