One year later ...

So ... here we are ... one year later.

Strangely, I thought I would have a lot to say about this. But I feel at a loss for words. I've actually been thinking a lot about how to blog about this over the past few weeks. What would I say? How would I express myself?

Has anything changed? Well, we've been through all the firsts. His first birthday. Our first Christmas without him. Our first St. Patricks day without him. My first Father's Day without a father. Mum and Dad's anniversary. The one year anniversary of his passing. The one year anniversary of his funeral.

On August 25th I went for pizza with my good friend Leesa. As we were chatting, she asked me how I was doing with everything. I was telling her how I was ok, that things were going well. And then I started to explain how only now am I started to remember some things that happened last year. Mostly in relation to my aunts death (she had a heart attack 6 days after my dad died, while she was with us for his funeral). I had forgotten a lot of things about it. But as I was thinking about her on the anniversary of her death (August 24th), I started to recall some things - conversations I had, people I had to call, the whole experience itself from start to finish. I recelled things I had previously forgotten as I told Leesa this story. It caused the hair on the back of my neck and my arms to stand up. I felt chilled. Then we spoke more about my dad. I told Leesa that I thought I was ok, that I didn't think I would have anymore random breakdowns. You know, the kind where you hear a song on the radio that causes you to burst in to tears. Or how a certain smell, or memory that just bring back all the pain from those first days. I thought this wouldn't happen anymore. That now that the first year was over, I wouldn't go through this anymore.

I was wrong.

The next day, I was at Chapters. As I stood in line to pay for my purchases, I noticed a middle aged man in front of me holding two DVD's. "The Vicar of Dibley". Dad loved this show. So did Mum. I tried to shake off the feeling this gave me. I went upstairs to the bookstore coffee shop to read and enjoy a cup of java. Then the grief grabbed me. It was so overwhelming I had to leave. I raced to my car as quickly as I could and then the pain took over. I was in tears. Sobbing in my car in the parkade of a shopping mall.

So maybe I'm not ok. But this I know for sure. I will be.