The date that haunts me. Learning to let go.

Most of us have things that have happened that we would like to forget but there are others of us that just like our birthday we have a knack for remembering the dates of events that shaped our lives, whether good or bad. That’s where I am today. Remembering dates I would love to forget. November through December are usually hard for me. My dad passed 42 years ago November 1, 1979 All Saints Day and it usually triggers my seasonal depression like clockwork. Then to boot November 11, Veterans Day signifies one of the many terrible days in my life as there a life altering moment with my then husband that may have changed the course of both of our lives unbeknownst to either of us.

So, November 1, I remember it so vividly. I don’t remember anything before that date as far as going trick or treating the night before, I was told I did though. I do remember passage of time from when he died until the last of the visits and prepared meals arrived. I remember the quiet of the empty house and the sadness that was there that was never discussed. The years that have passed since that 11 year old lost her father have been interesting to say the least. More sadness via loss of what was supposed to be love (marriages) other life issues, that come with just being here on earth. I didn’t realize until recently (within the last 4) years that I was depressed from this loss. Who knew? However to look back on it through non rose colored glasses, I see it all. Not that I want to forget the little I knew about my father or the few mere memories I have, I realized this year, I can’t continue to commemorate his passing.

That has only worked against me. My mother said once that I can’t focus on who is not here but should be grateful for who is. While she may have said that in her feelings, she is right. I have lived this way for the last 42 years. Its time to let him rest and rest in peace. I can celebrate his birthday right, not when he died. It’s weird to me in a way because this year I didn’t do my long Facebook post of how I missed him, yada yada yada. Here’s the thing, I survived it. I have to laugh at myself because I believed or felt it was my duty, my job to do that…but why?

In my mind if I didn’t remember him who would? My sister was 7 when he died and from the way it appeared to me, (then as an 11 year old and much into my adult life) my mother didn’t care that much. I have come to know that Mom had her own issues in dealing but because as a rule, a stupid one I will add, folks don’t talk about things that hurt them. Parents of my time and my community didn’t believe that it was necessary to talk to their children about their feelings or thoughts or opinions (we didn’t have any of these unless our parents gave them to us, if you know then you know). Although it was a safety net for me. I could slide into my seasonal funk, no questions asked and be left the hell alone. Especially during holidays (which are upon on now) because I just didn’t feel like being bothered. I was sad, depressed and just not in the mood for people, family and ho ho ho. Go away!!!

It was safe there but it was lonely! Like for real loneliness in a stadium full of people. No more. I have made the decision, finally to exhale and not give in to my “safety net” of depression, it’s too much. I am fighting every day to stay above the grubby little hands of the darkness that tries to get me in the rabbit hole. Nope, nope, nope. Holiday time is hard enough and to self impose sadness is kinda crazy. So why be crazy if you don’t have to be? Stop it. So, we stop it. I know it’s not that easy but it’s a process I have been working on for quite some time and (kicking the door in) I am here!!!

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