yesterday, i wrote about how i don't hate october 17, even though it's the anniversary of my father's death.
october 18, however, is the day after october 17, and therefore october 18 usually kind of sucks. try as i might to resist it, every year i have a sort of subconscious build up to 10/17. i take off work. i plan dad-celebrating, family-loving activities. i set aside time for writing. and somehow, somewhere way down deep, i have this seed of a belief that this year, on october 17, something will change.
i never really fully recognize this kernel until october 18, of course. when i can clearly see that the "something" i was hoping would change is not going to change. i have not tranformed into a magical phoenix-like creature who now understands the meaning of life. i did not have a dream in which my father appeared and told me the answers to all my doubts, wonderings, and hopes for the future. lo and behold, on october 18, after all that celebrating and family-loving and writing, my dad is still dead. well then.
this was especially hard to slam up against after anniversary one, and it was also extra crap-tastic after anniversary five. this year, i thought i was wise to the ways of october 18. indeed, it was no surprise to me when i woke up this morning to see that seed of a belief unearthed, barren, mute. but even though it wasn't a surprise, it still wasn't fun.
october 18, it's a good thing you are the day m was born. he is very special to me, so you get a pass. otherwise, i'd just give up on you, i think.