Last year, Father's Day was a mere six days after Bill died. I so badly wanted to set up a ritual for Tyler to do each year on this holiday that was once shared with his dad. I struggled to find the perfect idea that would be permanently placed in his memory. I wanted it to be something visual that Tyler could possibly understand better than, "Dad lives in heaven now." Thankfully, I don't think he will ever remember my not-so-brilliant plan.
I decided to get a balloon that we would let go and send up to dad in heaven. It seemed like the perfect plan that we would recreate each year. We could gaze in wonder as the balloon drifted up into the blue sky. Memories would flood our minds as we reminisced about "Our Dad." Let's just say that it didn't really go as I had planned.
Me: We are getting this balloon to send to daddy... since he lives in heaven now.
Tyler: We are getting balloons???
Me: Well, just one. We are going to let it go in the backyard and dad will be able to get it. You can even watch it drift up to the sky.
Tyler: (silence)
At home...
Me: Let's tell dad that we love him before we send it.
Tyler: Can I water the flowers?
Me: No, we are telling dad how much we love and miss him.
Tyler: I don't want to... Can I hold the balloon?
Me: Sure. Do you want to say, "I love you," before you let it go?
Tyler: I am NOT letting the balloon go. NO WAY.
Me: You have to, it's for dad... it's not for you.
Tyler: It's MINE! Why can't I have it? I can't let it go. Dad doesn't want it.
Me: YES HE DOES! NOW LET IT GO!!
Tyler: (Crying) NO!!!!!!! (Crying)
Me: YES!!! GIVE IT TO ME! (Said as I took the balloon and forced him to let it go.)
Tyler continued to sob and jump after the balloon as it lifted to the sky. He cried, stomped, kicked, hit... you name it... he was slightly upset, to put it mildly. I realized at that moment that I wasn't going to be able to "create" the perfect moment. It would have to just transpire on its own.
I am one to stick to my guns regarding parenting and consistency. I believe in following-through and saying what you mean. This being said... I also believe that (in life) the big picture is vital and battles should be chosen wisely. Six days after Bill's death, the balloon war was NOT the battle I was willing to fight. So, we hopped back in the car, went to the store, and got Tyler a new balloon. Hopefully Bill got the first one, because I don't think we will be sending many more up.
It's Father's Day, and although we had a wonderful day... it's just not one of my favorite holidays. It starts at the beginning of June when all you see in the stores is Father's Day reminders, dad gifts, and an abundance of tee-shirts that refer to some sort of, "My dad is the best," mantra. There was time when I mulled over the adorable boys' clothing pieces proclaiming the utmost pride for a father. Those days are gone for us, and I can't even fathom going near those shirts in the store. I hate to admit it, but I am relieved Father's Day is (almost) over.
Luckily, this day does not bother Tyler one bit. He still says Mother's Day is his favorite holiday... but I think he might be a little biased. ;) He just assumes that Father's Day is when we celebrate Papa (Bill's dad)... and he is absolutely correct. Today is Papa's day, and he has earned it. From the bottom of my heart ~ THANK YOU, Joe, for all you do and all you are for my little boy. Tyler is so very lucky... and so am I.
Today marks one year. I can't believe it has been a full year... and I can't believe it's only been a year. The past few weeks have been rough. The anticipation and reliving the memories have not been easy on the emotions.
I'm unclear how I should feel today. Obviously the wound is reopened, but I am not sure if I should be back at square one with grief, or if I should be slightly happy to have survived the first year. Today I feel a little bit of both. I am proud of how we are doing, and I can't help but smile when I look at my four-year-old who is growing up faster than I would like. Bill would be proud of us, too.
While I don't feel today should be any type of "celebration," (and part of me wanted to curl up in the fetal position) I do feel that I need to honor him and do something in his memory. So, today I went to the dermatologist and had an all-over skin check. Every year I will have an emotional reminder to head to the doctor and get checked.
Melanoma does NOT discriminate... the color of your skin does NOT matter... protect yourself and your loved ones. Even if you think you "tan easily"... you are at risk. EVERYone is. It IS genetic! If anyone in your family has a history, you have a far greater chance of getting melanoma. PLEASE protect yourself!
One year. On Tuesday. I'm dreading it. My heart hurts.
There... I said it.
Although we had a really nice weekend, I can't help but think, "Last year at this time, we were...." And I find myself reliving the last few weeks of Bill's life. I wish I could say that I enjoy the memories, but I do not. A year ago (this weekend) I was arranging for Hospice to come in and help us with the end-of-life procedures. When I mentally recap the events I honestly can't fathom how in the world I survived. Thankfully, adrenaline kicks in and you just do what is necessary while standing in the eye of the storm. If only I could figure out how to get my adrenaline to ignite as the one year anniversary approaches... I could use a little numbness for that too.
Tomorrow is a week post-surgery, and I get my stitches out! Even though it was arthroscopic, I am pretty bruised where he went in. I have been managing really well and have had relatively little pain. I am sore, and can tell when I have done too much, but all in all, it's not really that bad. I definitely feel like I have one speed... and that speed is S L O W. That has been the hardest adjustment. Timing things has been a challenge since everything takes twice as long.
I can take the sling off at home, which is a nice relief. I always wear it out... for two reasons... 1) I have a serious fear of someone bumping into me, and 2) I think it's the universal sign that says, "Don't even think about accidentally bumping into me."
Tyler is quite anxious for me to be better. I wondered how he would take all of this, since his foundational knowledge for doctors, hospitals, surgeries, and "sick" is abundant... to say the least. My hypothesis was correct in assuming he does NOT like me being injured or in pain. He also wants to be carried/held once and awhile, which doesn't help the issue. He has handled the whole thing VERY well... all things considered.
I am SO glad I did the surgery! (I was having some serious anxiety.) I can tell that my shoulder will once again be good as new. Even though it is tight and needs some strengthening, I feel reassured that it WILL stay in place.
