I have been through enough holidays now since Joseph's death to know that it is probably going to be a long time until any of them are ever fun again. I am not a big Easter person but the holiday still hit me hard, preparing baskets for two of my ducklings instead of all three. Obviously Mother's Day was incredibly difficult and Joseph's birthday. But I didn't expect really to have so much trouble on Father's Day.
I knew it would be bad for Stewart. Not only the loss of Joseph, but Lynda, his girlfrend of about nine months at the time, died very suddenly on Father's Day just after Joseph was diagnosed. As the kids and I prepared to do things for him both to appreciate him and to distract, I anticipated giving him a strong presence to lean on. Not sure I did so good in that department. We took him to a movie of his choice and the four of us saw the new Silver Surfer movie (not a bad flick in terms of pure entertainment value). I got knocked on my ass by the previews before it though and for the rest of the day I carried a stone in my chest. The Transformers movie is coming out soon. Joseph had looked forward to that movie more than any since the last Star Wars film. He downloaded the teaser on it last fall, almost a full year from its expected release and talked about being out of the hospital and all of us seeing it together as a family. A stunning, breathtaking reminder of all the things he will never get to do. My heart just plain hurts that he will never seen this film. He wanted to so badly. I find myself dreading each holiday now as it comes. July 4th....he had just gotten out of the hospital from his first round of chemo two years ago and I found us a deserted patch of land close to the fireworks show but not near any people so that he could see them light up the sky and enjoy being out of doors. July 5th...Big Joe's birthday...and sadly, also the day routine blood work showed last year that Joseph had relapsed without warnings or symptoms. September 26th..my birthday. October 9th....the date of his transplant. Thanksgiving...the last holiday we got together. November 28th...the day he was readmitted. December 11th...the day he went to ICU and had to be intubated. December 23rd...the last time I communicated with my son. January 10th...the first anniversary of his death. I just see so little to look foward to. I am frightened of these dates and a few others. Focusing on my school work and building a life with Joe provides me with structure in a world that seems to have completely lost all sense of order.
My own Dad died three years ago in a sudden drowning accident and I thougt of him a lot yesterday. He would have died a horrible death from a Parkinsonian disorder that was stealing the stem of his brain a little at a time. The way he died was almost a relief compared to what he would have gone through, and I have had peace about his passing for a long time now. But I did think of him and hoped that he and Joseph are together somewhere. I hope everyone had a good Father's Day.