My best friend is here (staying with her parents) with her family visiting over the holiday. We're headed over there for dinner and fireworks this evening. I'm still looking forward to it. Last night was just fine, anticipation of seeing my adopted family (we've been friends so long her family feels like my family), planning the food I'm making for the event (macaroni salad and banana dessert), thinking about another friend of ours who is flying out to visit while Amy and I are both here... I went to bed happy and expected to wake up just as happy.
As the day progresses I am feeling more and more sense of loss. The special summer potluck foods (we tend to usually bring some variation of the same theme) make me think of Dave and how much he enjoyed those dishes. I remember arguing with him about whether or not there should be eggs in the salad (I hate hard boiled eggs). I remember his pride in me and what I could do- because oddly he loved sharing my cooking with others. I remember him playing with the boys outside while I would cook in the kitchen- the sound of laughter drifting in the window.
I remember him always spending way more money on fireworks than I thought was necessary, lighting fireworks in the driveway while our kids hid in the house. My husband was a pyro- I can still picture the joy on his face as he lit the fuses. We'd put the kids to bed once our fireworks were finished and then we'd sit outside and watch all the illegal fireworks going up around us. Oh, and I remember a couple of very memorable 4th of July parties in the years before we married. We loved this holiday!
It surprises me every time a day spins out of my control like this one has. "Choose happiness," is my motto for the year- because you can choose whether to be happy or miserable. It's not your circumstances that dictate your outlook on life. However; I can't choose not to be sad. Some days it just hits- like today. I can't choose to avoid noticing the large hole left in our family.
My hope is that if I stop and take a moment to accept the grief I will be able to move past it tomorrow. This has happened often enough that I've seen the pattern: Grief hits like a truck one day, cry and grieve and drink a bit- then- the next day is actually better than the week before. It's as if I have to stop and cry and acknowledge the loss before I can go back to being my normal self.
:-) I live in anticipation of the holidays when I don't have to stop and have a little breakdown.