a little while ago it hit me

yesterday was the third anniversary of my grandfather's death. it feels wierd to call him that. he's pop. anyway, the last two march 4ths have sucked. well, ok, the last three. but yesterday was different. i went through the day knowing it was march 4 (our kids are obsessed with calendars right now so i couldn't not know) without realizing what it meant. when it hit me this morning, i felt like ... well not good stuff. i couldn't believe that i had forgotten. did that mean that i cared less? or that i had moved on? or that losing him was somehow less meaningful than the other crap i spent my day on? so i'm basking in my self-loathing, thinking about yesterday when i realize that all i did yesterday was think about him. i watched the cubs' first spring game (thanks corey) and thought about him. i wrote about him for my piece for the writer's circle last night. i thought about how many goofy awards banquets and stuff my family had to sit through for me while i was sitting through caleb's last night. i talked about him and read about him at writer's circle.
i don't spend every day thinking about him like that. subconsciously i guess i knew what yesterday was, but instead of thinking about losing him, i spent the day thinking about when we had him. in all of my thinking about him, the fact that he died never crossed my mind. so i've decided that instead of being an unfeeling jerk (at least about this, i probably am in other places) i've just moved into a different phase of grieving or something. i don't have to always think about him in terms of being "gone". i can remember him here and enjoy that. that feels infinitely better than spending the day wrecked. a few tears here for the remembering and then back to the better things.
anyway, my time on the couch is almost up. if anyone is reading this (and why are you?) thanks for indulging me.

blinking at the bright spots in the darkness
j