Talk Without Speaking

This post has been rattling around in my head for what….almost three months. I guess since around my birthday in early August. I guess I haven’t felt like I could post here without putting this post together first.

For some reason I thought that my birthday was the last first - the last of the first anniversaries since Dad died. And I don’t know why there should be any special significance to these anniversaries but we measure time this way and these dates *do* feel important to me. I agree that they possibly shouldn’t though. Anyway…

I realized after my birthday that there was more to come. A week ago today was the anniversary of his death and this past Wednesday the anniversary of his funeral. For inexplicable reasons the funeral day was far worse; I guess there are more memories of that day.

I really don’t have a ton to say here but I guess it comes down to simply how strange it feels to have time moving on and to feel myself moving on along with it. I woke up in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago, spoke, “I love you” and just fell back asleep again.

I pulled into nazareth, was feelin about half past dead;
I just need some place where I can lay my head.
Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?
He just grinned and shook my hand, and no!, was all he said.
- The Weight, The Band