Just Keep Playing
It’s February already, and I feel like 2011 completely snuck up on me. Since my birthday is so close to the end of the year, when the calendars change, I really feel like a whole new year has begun. I usually love celebrating the New Year, mostly by reflecting on the past year, and then planning for the months to come. This year, that just doesn’t interest me.
A year ago, I was in a completely different place. Not only physically, but emotionally as well. I was thinking about marriage and settling down. I was excited to be celebrating another academic milestone, and starting something new, and yet also comfortable. I was trying my best to make the most of my last few months of college (which I feel I did pretty successfully.) I was looking forward to meeting new people and getting involved in new things. The future was exciting.
And now, all I want to do is think about the past. Not because I’m unhappy where I am- I’ve really started to feel like Maryland is home. I’m sure that feeling will continue as I start my new job and look for a place of my own. But the excitement that should be there, isn’t. I miss my daddy. I hoped that coming back to Maryland would help me focus on the adventures I have ahead of me- that somehow being here would make me forget that he really is gone. But that hasn’t happened. With each new thing I prepare for, all I seem to be able to think about is what I would have wanted to share with Dad. How much he would have loved looking at apartments in the city with me, especially with the views of Camden Yards and the sailboats in the harbor. The advice he would have given me about being in a giant hospital system, and working with doctors who might not value me as much as they should. Liz identified it as a change in baseline, and I think that’s how I feel too. The happiness isn’t as happy, and the sadness seems to be so much worse.
It’s hard to focus on what’s to come when I know he’ll be missing from it all. Dad was really good at celebrations. Yes, I’ve had years of “anticipatory grieving.” I knew when he got sick again, that the odds of him walking me down the aisle were slim to none. But all of it seems so much more real now. It makes me sad that he won’t get to question the boys that I date, to make sure they’re good enough. To give them a hard time when one of them finally asks for his permission to marry me. To get all dressed up to walk me down the aisle and give me away. To spoil my children with things that were forbidden during my childhood.
For almost my entire life, I’ve been a forward-thinker, looking at what the future has to offer me. Now, it just doesn’t seem as bright. I catch myself walking down memory lane more than ever before, almost as if I’m afraid I’ll forget him as time goes on. I’m clinging to the good time we shared together, while simultaneously mourning the loss of things to come.
I wasn’t expecting it to be this hard. I’ve been fortunate to have gotten past the point in my life where I really need my dad. I’ve reached adulthood. But I’m sad that I won’t get to know him as a friend, as well as my father. I wasn’t expecting to feel the loss so consistently, and if I’m being honest, I’m hoping that changes as time goes on.
It’s barely February, and I’m not looking forward to the rest of 2011. There are exciting things in my future, but I just want to skip all of the “firsts” that he won’t be there for. I haven’t sat down to make yearly goals like I usually do, because I can’t seem to focus on moving on, and somehow I think that if I don’t plan for the future, that it won’t happen.
But time continues, no matter how hard I try to prevent it. I get my planning instinct from my dad, who not only planned each day/week/month out meticulously, but also always had an adventure planned to look forward to. The next year has a lot of adventures, and I’m hoping that soon, I’ll be able to embrace life the way that Dad did, even when he knew his days were numbered.
Until then, I’ll just keep playing.
A year ago, I was in a completely different place. Not only physically, but emotionally as well. I was thinking about marriage and settling down. I was excited to be celebrating another academic milestone, and starting something new, and yet also comfortable. I was trying my best to make the most of my last few months of college (which I feel I did pretty successfully.) I was looking forward to meeting new people and getting involved in new things. The future was exciting.
And now, all I want to do is think about the past. Not because I’m unhappy where I am- I’ve really started to feel like Maryland is home. I’m sure that feeling will continue as I start my new job and look for a place of my own. But the excitement that should be there, isn’t. I miss my daddy. I hoped that coming back to Maryland would help me focus on the adventures I have ahead of me- that somehow being here would make me forget that he really is gone. But that hasn’t happened. With each new thing I prepare for, all I seem to be able to think about is what I would have wanted to share with Dad. How much he would have loved looking at apartments in the city with me, especially with the views of Camden Yards and the sailboats in the harbor. The advice he would have given me about being in a giant hospital system, and working with doctors who might not value me as much as they should. Liz identified it as a change in baseline, and I think that’s how I feel too. The happiness isn’t as happy, and the sadness seems to be so much worse.
It’s hard to focus on what’s to come when I know he’ll be missing from it all. Dad was really good at celebrations. Yes, I’ve had years of “anticipatory grieving.” I knew when he got sick again, that the odds of him walking me down the aisle were slim to none. But all of it seems so much more real now. It makes me sad that he won’t get to question the boys that I date, to make sure they’re good enough. To give them a hard time when one of them finally asks for his permission to marry me. To get all dressed up to walk me down the aisle and give me away. To spoil my children with things that were forbidden during my childhood.
For almost my entire life, I’ve been a forward-thinker, looking at what the future has to offer me. Now, it just doesn’t seem as bright. I catch myself walking down memory lane more than ever before, almost as if I’m afraid I’ll forget him as time goes on. I’m clinging to the good time we shared together, while simultaneously mourning the loss of things to come.
I wasn’t expecting it to be this hard. I’ve been fortunate to have gotten past the point in my life where I really need my dad. I’ve reached adulthood. But I’m sad that I won’t get to know him as a friend, as well as my father. I wasn’t expecting to feel the loss so consistently, and if I’m being honest, I’m hoping that changes as time goes on.
It’s barely February, and I’m not looking forward to the rest of 2011. There are exciting things in my future, but I just want to skip all of the “firsts” that he won’t be there for. I haven’t sat down to make yearly goals like I usually do, because I can’t seem to focus on moving on, and somehow I think that if I don’t plan for the future, that it won’t happen.
But time continues, no matter how hard I try to prevent it. I get my planning instinct from my dad, who not only planned each day/week/month out meticulously, but also always had an adventure planned to look forward to. The next year has a lot of adventures, and I’m hoping that soon, I’ll be able to embrace life the way that Dad did, even when he knew his days were numbered.
Until then, I’ll just keep playing.
Thanks for sharing this, Vickie. And I know it's not the same, but I promise to ask any guy you date whether he's been to a gun show, whether he has a last name, and whether he can be trusted around morphine. : )
ReplyDelete:) Thanks Sissy.
ReplyDelete