Monday will be one year since Dad died. In a lot of ways, though, today feels like the anniversary, because the 23rd fell on a Saturday last year. Having his death on a Saturday afternoon was especially painful for me, because when we were younger he’d always take me out to the mall to shop and play video games. (I’m only now beginning to realize that this was mostly done to get me out of the house for a few hours so Mom could have some peace and quiet.) It’s disconcerting for me to think that it was about a year ago that I was pacing back and forth in the lobby of the hospital, with so many thoughts racing through my head. I’m watching Hockey Day in Canada on CBC right now, which is helping me to take my mind off of things, and I have a full day of teaching on Monday to distract me as well, but the shadow of the anniversary is definitely weighing me down right now.

I hadn’t expected that the anniversary would hit me as hard as it has. I thought that the other "firsts" — our first birthdays without him, the first Christmas — would be harder to deal with, but I don’t think it’s been this hard for me since the first weeks after Dad’s death. I’ve been having stomach pains on and off for several days now, and my energy levels have been fluctuating like crazy. (Ironically, this is happening at a time when I’ve gone through a lot of good personal growth, and I have a social life again for the first time in nearly four years.) All of us who remain have been crying more than usual lately, and the memories of that Saturday a year ago are becoming more vivid for all of us. I’m hoping that these feelings become easier to deal with once we get past Monday, but I know that getting to Tuesday isn’t going to be a "magic bullet" that makes everything all better.

It probably doesn’t help that we’re at that same time of year when Dad died again, and I see that every time I go outside or look out of my bedroom window. We’d had a pretty extended thaw here lately — it got rid of the huge amount of snow we’d had the month prior, but melted it so fast that several rivers in Ohio and Michigan have been overflowing — but now today we’re getting a few inches of fresh snow, and I can remember we had a fair bit of snow on the ground when Dad died. Really, though, since the start of the year, I’ve been waiting for Daylight Savings Time to come. As much as I was a creature of the night in my younger years, I’ve found myself affected more by Seasonal Affective Disorder these days, and having that extra hour of daylight in the evenings should help me feel a little better. In the meantime, it’s grey and snowy outside, and I can only hope that a full day of hockey helps me take my mind off of how quickly we’re approaching a year since Dad’s death.