It has been over three weeks since the second anniversary of my Dad’s death. I wasn’t particularly emotional that day, it was one of the first nice weekends and we were out having fun with friends.
I think these flowers blooming remind me more of it than anything. This bush is right on the side of our driveway:
Spring came ridiculously early that year. I was out on a walk with my mom and Jane. Just as we were entering my alley we saw a loose dog and I went to knock on some neighbors’ doors to see if I could find the owner. When I came back my mom said “your phone was ringing”. I checked it to see multiple voicemails and texts that said “911 call immediately”. My heart started racing and I managed to call the number back, getting my Dad’s friend on the other end, obviously in a panic himself, who blurted out “your Dad is dead”.
The following time is a blur, his friend came quickly to my house, told us the details, drove my mom back to her house, Nathan came home. I hugged Jane a lot and wandered around the driveway in stunned silence and clearly remember noticing the flowers had just bloomed. Nathan also noticed and mentioned it to me later – not the sort of thing I’d usually expect from him.
This year was a lot easier than last year. I guess it’s true what they say, you get used to the new normal. The second set of holidays without him was much less painful, and I don’t cry every time I pull up to their house and his truck isn’t in the driveway. The one thing that still really sets me off is if I start thinking about how much fun he would’ve had with Jane at this age. About how he’ll never meet my little boy and what an amazing role model he would’ve been in this kid’s life.
So yeah, it gets easier, but I still miss him so much.