Nine Years

My dad passed nine years and two days ago. Sometimes this anniversary is a marker, an unbelievable reminder of the passage of time. Sometimes, like this year, it’s really hard. Losing my uncle, dad’s brother, another family member, plus one friend dying right now, another putting off dying unless there’s a miracle, a brother-in-law clinging to life, just barely, after six weeks in the hospital, my other uncle slowly going down to Alzheimer’s, and my mother-in-law struggling mightily on the cognitive front, has been a lot for a season. I find my slim patience narrowing, but manage to expend it all where it is needed rather than blowing a circuit at someone or over something that doesn’t deserve my grief driven ire. I told our GC the other day, “I could never do your job. On a good day, I can’t answer the phone/text/email as often as I see you do so in an hour!” He thought that was funny. Right now, not the very best of days, every time my phone sniffles, I jump. Given the projects here and on the Island, the phone is blowing snot a lot.

Cleaning and painting the downstairs, now that the phase one of the project is done, offers a delusion of control, and some peace. I’ll plant peas this weekend. Dad is whispering to me, “You’re late again with the peas!” You’re right dad!!

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