Through the Years…

There is a Kenny Rogers song with this title, and maybe I’m thinking of it because he recently passed away. But more so, I am thinking about the years that pass. While we are all so busy trying to build a life, trying to get ahead. I have heard it said that Life passes most people by while they are making grand plans for it. But on this day each year, I am reminded of the things that I have done to try and not feel, and try to just hold it together. Some other years I have played music, looked at pictures and read things that I knew would allow me to let my guard down a little. I have at times been told that I am without feelings, and that I am cold or emotionless. I think that I have used that as a way to not have to be so sad.  It’s not an easy task; trying to ignore something that is screaming at you.

Over the last twelve years, I have planned fabulous trips, I have made sure to have an outing planned with a friend, I have requested leave from work. There was even a year that I had a dinner party at my house that included chicken on the grill; that may or may not have been burnt on the outside and slightly raw on the inside. I have done home projects and painted walls.  I have made mixed drinks inspired by things, and made toasts to other things. I have made a life for myself that has included this day not ever being just another day. I have tried not being sad, I have tried crying for hours, and everything in between.

This year, every single thing is so different. I can’t bury myself in a trip. I can’t go out and have friends all say the favorite things that they have heard about him. I am not able to have a dinner where I can man the grill-I can at least say that I mastered that. There is something going on in this Country, this World…that no one can even comprehend. We are all stuck indoors, we are all concerned. We aren’t even able to be in close contact with each other. I have wondered many times what he would have thought of all this madness; how he would have reacted to it, if he were my age now.

A few years ago, my Mother had a surgery, and the Staples Children assembled to care for her. One day I was in the kitchen. I don’t remember now if I was doing dishes or meal prepping for her, another meal that she might not have really liked.  If any of you have tried as adults to make your parent eat a balanced, fun and delicious meal, it’s not easy but I digress. I was in the kitchen and I had put on a CD that my Mom had in there and it of course was Kenny Rogers, she loves him. I was fine for all the upbeat tunes, I do love a good chorus of the Islands in the Stream. But then this song came on that I know I had heard before, but it hit differently that particular day. Music does this to me. It holds a time and place that means something when it is supposed to.  I ended up sitting in the stairway crying. Remembering all the things that had happened in that house. Even the stairs where I sat. There are only three other people on this Earth that will ever know those things.

This last year of my Life has been exciting and happy and exhilarating. But there has always been a little bit of sadness to the fact that there was a piece missing. I remember that when I asked my Brother in Law if he would give me away, that the words came out in a squeaky crying mess. In my bouquet was one of his handkerchiefs, so I could feel like he was with me in that moment.  I know that my Husband will only know stories of a Man that he can’t meet. I wish, and sometimes dream that he could see the person that the last twelve years have made me. When I wake from dreams that he is alive and well, the tears of reality sting my eyes in a way that I can not even describe.

Twelve years ago today, my Daddy passed away. This is something that defines a person. Something that they live with. Something that I live with,  Through the Years.