I hate when the calendar turns from February to March, and I hate March 3rd. Perhaps I just hate the significance of that day.
The first year after Jason died, I hated the 3rd of every month. I absolutely hated them with a passion. I know it’s just a day of the month…well, perhaps in ordinary circumstances it’s just a day of the month, but to me it marked off the number of months we had lived without Jason. Each month marked so many “firsts” we had to do without Jason, so many struggles, so many heartaches, such long and lonely hours trying to figure out how to survive in a world without our boy. Now each March 3rd represents the ending of one year and beginning of another full year that Jason has been gone.
As February ends and it is inevitable that the calendar turns to March, I start to notice an anxious restlessness from deep within me. There’s nothing I can do about it. It’s like my whole being subconsciously knows that March 3rd, the anniversary of the day that Jason died, is approaching. I’ve learned to recognize where this restlessness comes from, and I have learned to do the best I can to navigate emotion-filled waters. Sometimes it’s easier than others. Usually the days leading up to March 3rd are more difficult than the actual day, perhaps it’s the anticipation of the arrival of that day.
I’ve been doing pretty well with managing the restlessness as it arises this year. But tonight, as the day was drawing to a close and the house quieted for the night, I felt like sitting down and crying. Another year. How can another year be gone? How can we have lived another year without Jason? It just doesn’t seem possible. It’s easier than it used to be, but it still hurts more than I let anyone know. I still miss him so much.
© 2013 Rebecca R. Carney